


The Ship Of Dreams

by GleefullyWicked, wildnoutinwildemount



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Abuse, F/F, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Historical References, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts, Titanic AU, YES THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING WE PROMISE, greenelan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 60,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleefullyWicked/pseuds/GleefullyWicked, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildnoutinwildemount/pseuds/wildnoutinwildemount
Summary: The Titanic might have been nicknamed the "Ship of Dreams" but Greenelan is taking that title now.OrThe Greenelan Titanic AU that no one asked for but we were determined to write anyway.[AND YES THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING, STOP WORRYING ABOUT IT!!]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> We've teamed up for another fic, y'all! We're both totally in love with Titanic, and Greenelan just fit into the roles of Jack and Rose so perfectly, it would have been criminal not to give this a try. There will be trigger warnings where appropriate, as some of the content matter will be a little heavier just by virtue of the story. We always recommend watching the movie because it's amazing and iconic, even if this AU will be a somewhat loose adaptation in several ways. But if you haven't seen it and don't plan to, you should still be able to follow the story fine. Fair warning that it DOES take a while for our ladies to meet, but we promise it's worth the wait. Also this story has a sort of framing device, much like Titanic does, which is why there is a prologue with characters you won't recognize at first. We hope you enjoy! And feel free to leave any comments or questions!

** PROLOGUE **

The line between academic discovery and graverobbing is so fine that it’s practically non-existent. Or at least, that’s what Billy Parker tells himself as he traverses the most infamous wreckage site in history while wearing a VR headset like some teenage gamer.

What’s left of the Titanic is almost unrecognizable from what it used to be, courtesy of some mutant bacteria, and yet the ocean floor is still littered with countless pairs of shoes--the only form of a gravemarker to be found down here.

“Where am I going?” he asks, pausing his rover at the main stairwell.

“Uhhh… down to B-deck and then left,” Billy’s assistant, Patrick says, clearing his throat and then double-checking the ship blueprints if the sound of rustling paper is any indication. “Should be the second suite down.”

“We better be right, Pat. As much as I love the hunt, our investors are hoping each dive is our last.” Billy carefully lowers his rover down to B-level before pushing forward into the main corridor and taking a left. He makes it down to the indicated suite and has to take several moments to maneuver through the doorway. 

“Yeah, they bitch about how much money they’re spending all the time. It’s like they forget how much everything we’re meant to find is worth. Okay, stop there! The safe should be in a room off to the right and behind that mantle… or what I think is a mantle,” Patrick explains further. 

“Shit! There’s so much debris in here. Definitely gonna have to move some junk around,” Billy muses as he activates the arms on the rover and waits for them to settle into place. He begins lifting hunks of driftwood and furniture, carefully having the camera pan around the area as more of the room comes into view. A bit of dull green catches his eye and he freezes, zooming in. “There! I think… just under that piece of wardrobe. Let’s see!”

Billy quickly floats the rover up and around to get a better angle, then he’s grasping the large wooden frame and tossing it to the side with as much of a flourish as robot arms are capable of. He’s blind to the world around him, his line of sight completely consisting of what the rover’s cameras are streaming into his VR headset. But he can hear and sense the rest of the submersible crew excitedly gathering around to watch as he finally uncovers what they’ve been searching for this whole time.

“That’s it, boss!” Pat exclaims, grabbing Billy’s shoulders and shaking him happily. “That’s Greg Hockley’s safe! If that diamond is anywhere in this wreckage, it’s in there!”

Billy grins from ear to ear and gives a shout of triumph. “It’s payday, boys!”

The entire cabin is filled with a cacophony of loud cheers and applause as Billy secures the safe in the grip of the rover and pilots it back towards their submersible. The trip back to the surface is going to be the longest yet, but Billy is sure it’s more than worth the wait.

* * *

“You crazy sonofabitch! I can’t believe you found it!” Josh hollers as soon as Billy is safely back on the deck of their research vessel, lunging at him and hugging him none too gently. Someone else reaches out to ruffle his hair and everyone is crowding the area as he makes his way over to where the safe is being hoisted up from their equipment. 

There are cameras and phones all around, and a few crew members have bottles of champagne at the ready to crack open the moment they do the same to the safe. The thing has barely touched the deck of the ship before one of the guys is getting to work on cracking it open, sparks flying freely. Billy pushes forward with Patrick at his side, who hands him his planned celebratory cigar. He’s been saving it for the moment he finds his prize, and now he is only seconds away.

“You ready, boss?” asks the man who has just finished attaching a chain to the door of the safe.

“Open her up, buddy!” Billy says, practically bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. The chain is jerked and the door of the safe gives after only a small whine of protest, wrenching free and sending a surge of dirty seawater spilling out onto the deck. Billy is immediately down at eye level with the contents of the safe, reaching in to grab whatever he can and pull it free. 

He is hoping to encounter something hard enough to cut through glass, but instead, all his hands come into contact with is something akin to sludge. The remnants of what were once probably documents of some import. The only thing even remotely solid in the entire safe is a long notebook of some kind, situated against the wall of the safe, which he sets to the side. 

“No diamond?” asks the same guy who had opened the safe.

Billy sits back on his heels for a moment, a feeling of cold dread washing over him. _ How can it not be here? We’ve gone through all the correct paperwork, followed every lead, searched every possible place on land and sea. This isn’t right! _His investors are really gonna have his head for this.

“Oh god, it’s the Mueller Report all over again,” someone amongst the onlookers mutters just loud enough for Billy to hear.

“Turn the cameras off. Now,” Billy snaps at Josh and several of the people standing nearby with their devices out. Then he’s grabbing the (probably worthless) notebook and stalking off towards the labs to hand it off to one of their museum specialists.

* * *

“No sir, it’s not a lost cause. There are several places further into the suites that it could be, especially when you account for over a hundred years of drift on the ocean floor. I just need a little more time, sir,” Billy explains. He has no idea how his investors found out about the safe being a dud so quickly, but he was accosted with phone calls the moment he stepped into the lab.

“You’ve _ had _time, Parker! I’ve given you nothing but time and money and for what? A bunch of nothing!”

“All due respect, sir, we’ve found several other artifacts while we’ve been searching for the diamond, and managed to collect biological samples for scientific study while we were at it. So it’s not nothing.”

“Everyone knows that everything worth getting from down there was taken out in the ’90s, and any asshole can see the exhibit in Vegas. _ You _have a hair clip and a broken mirror.”

Billy is just about to well and truly go off on Mr. James about how _ he _ is the salvage and treasure hunting expert and that maybe Mr. James should stick to what he’s an expert at, like playing golf and getting spray tans. But then he sees something as he chances a glance at the monitor that’s showing the progress the historical document specialist is making on the notebook he found.

“Leather-bound. It’s not paper, it’s canvas.” The specialist says into her recorder before beginning to gently spray the exposed page, clearing it of 107 years of mud and god knows what.

Billy isn’t expecting much--except maybe for the thing to fall apart--when a picture begins to emerge. He steps closer to the monitor, his breath hitching when he recognizes the subject of the drawing immediately as Alyssa Janelle Greene. He’s seen enough pictures of Greg Hockley’s famously dead fiancée to know that much. What’s new to him here is that… well, first of all, she’s stark naked, and secondly… the one thing she _ is _ wearing is the exact diamond necklace he is currently searching for.

“I’ll be god-damned.”

“What did you say to me, Parker?” Mr. James rages on the other end of the line.

“What? No! Not you, sir. I’m sorry… I’m gonna… I’m gonna have to call you back. I think we may have just made a breakthrough.” Billy hangs up before he has to listen to Mr. James blow yet another gasket.

“Hey Winnie,” he calls out, walking over to where the specialist is working. “Let me have a better look at that… holy shit! Look at the date. It’s… April 14th, 1912.”

“That’s the date the Titanic sank, isn’t it?” Winnie asks, slightly out of her depth with the specifics of the incident.

“That’s exactly right! And our friend here was wearing this necklace that day, which means for all intents and purposes, she is its last known address. And since this drawing is indisputably of Alyssa Greene, who according to all reports, died when the ship sank, it means that the necklace _ has _ to be down here somewhere. It’s not a lost cause!” He runs a hand through his hair, barely able to catch his breath. Three years of searching and this is his first major step towards actually finding what could very well be worth more than the Hope Diamond. 

He opens his camera app and snaps a few pictures of the drawing. One wouldn’t expect him to be thinking of blogging at a time like this, but this kind of validation is way too rare to pass up. Also, he figures he should send a picture and explanation to Mr. James and the rest of his investors, but those assholes can wait a little longer.

* * *

“Excuse me, are you William Parker?”

Billy looks up to find an intense, but stunningly beautiful woman making a beeline for him after they’ve just docked to refuel and rest up in St. John’s, Newfoundland. It’s only been a few days since he posted the pictures online, but that’s been long enough for them to go viral--apparently there’s a public interest in naked drawings of young, attractive biracial heiresses struck down in their prime. He assumes this woman is another reporter looking for some kind of exclusive, but after the safe disappointment, he’s planning on holding most of his cards close to his chest from here on out.

“Uh, yes? But like I told the Post, I’m not giving any inter-” He’s cut off by a sucker-punch to the face, hitting him square in the mouth.

“That’s fine. I’m not really interested in hearing what you have to say. But _ you _ are damned well gonna listen to _ me. _ What you and your kind do is bad enough as it is, but to post someone’s obviously private drawing on the Internet? That’s low even for someone who makes a living robbing those who are already below ground!”

Being accused of being a grave robber is nothing new to Billy, but he must say that being accused of breaching the privacy of a woman dead for over a century is something he hasn’t experienced. Nor has he ever been hit quite that hard before, and he used to play football. “I’m sorry, _ who _are you?” he asks, his hand wiping at his bottom lip and coming away bloody.

“One of probably very few people who actually give a shit about this, and someone who clearly knows way more than you,” the woman says, seething.

“About what, exactly? And I meant your name, obviously…” Billy asks impatiently. He’s beginning to wonder if he should maybe call security or even the police.

“About Titanic, the drawing, the woman in it… about The Heart of the Ocean.” Her eyes narrow and the corner of her mouth twitches in a nearly imperceptible smirk as she takes in the immediate shock and interest Billy is sure is written all over his face. “And the woman in that drawing is my great-grandmother. You would probably know her as Alyssa Greene. To me, she was Nana Lys. And I’m Dr. Jennifer Lowe. I’m an art history professor at Columbia. You can Google me if you’d like. Do I have your attention now, Mr. Parker?”

“You… have my attention, for the moment. And a mean right hook, apparently.” He turns to spit off the edge of the sidewalk and makes a mental note to check for any loose teeth later. “Can you tell me how she survived without anyone knowing?” He’s still not sure if he even believes her, but after three years of almost nothing, he’s jonesing for any lead he can get.

“I can tell you a lot more than that, but I think we should go somewhere more private, first. This story may take a while.”

Billy eyes her curiously. “What are you getting out of this, exactly? I mean, I’m possibly getting the information I’ve been looking for for three years now, but this can’t all be for nothing on your part, surely?”

Jennifer gives him a look that seems to be carefully measured before turning and starting further up the sidewalk, making a motion to indicate he should follow. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

“Okay… well, do you mind telling me where we’re going? A secondary location is not usually a good sign.” Billy says this but he has already fallen in step beside her.

“There are several pubs and restaurants up on Water Street. That neutral enough for you, Mr. Parker?” She sounds more than a little exasperated with him, which is all the more confusing to Billy considering she is the one who went to the trouble of seeking him out in the first place.  
“Sure. I could do with something to eat, and I could definitely use a drink. And uh… you can call me, Billy. That’s what everyone calls me.” He tries for a smile, but his busted lip stings as he does so and he just ends up grimacing. It’s not like Jennifer is particularly receptive to him, anyway, so he’s not sure why he even bothered.

Once they’re seated in the back corner of some trendy gastropub, Billy’s able to truly look at Jennifer for the first time. The skeptical part of his mind is trying to tell his eyes that she doesn’t strongly resemble Alyssa, but it isn’t doing a very good job. Granted, what he has seen of Alyssa is limited to a few old black and white photographs, and Jennifer is from a different era with supposedly a couple of generations separating her and Alyssa. But even with all of that, it isn’t difficult at all to believe that this woman sitting across from him is related to the woman whose likeness he found locked up in that safe.

They have the same thick dark hair, though Jennifer’s appears to be less curly. Jennifer’s skin is somewhat lighter than Alyssa’s was, and her build is definitely more on the long and lithe side. But the intensity of her dark eyes and the shape of her jaw and nose, even the set of her mouth is like someone copied and pasted parts of Alyssa Greene onto the person in front of Billy.

“Are you going to gawk at me the whole time we’re here or are you actually going to look at the menu and order something?” Jennifer barely spares a glance at him over her own menu, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I just…since you mentioned it before, I can’t help but notice how much you actually look like… well _ her _,” Billy finishes a bit lamely, shrugging and picking up his menu.

“I assure you, there are no hand-drawn portraits of me posing buck naked. Oooh, poutine…” She sets down her menu, her mind made up, and crosses her hands on the table in front of her. “So let’s just start from the beginning, shall we?”

Billy nods. “So Alyssa Janelle Greene was 17 years old when she embarked on the Titanic’s maiden voyage accompanied by her mother, the widowed Veronica Greene, and her fiancé Gregory Caledon Hockley, whose father cashed out on an insurance claim on a diamond necklace the week after the sinking. The necklace was said to have been 56 carats of pure blue diamond, and was nicknamed ‘Le Coeur de la Mer’ or ‘The Heart of the Ocean.’ Story goes that it once belonged to Louis XVI, but it disappeared after he lost his head and showed up years later recut into the heart shape we see in that drawing. Greg Hockley reportedly bought it as an engagement gift for Alyssa while in Paris, and his father insured it accordingly. By all accounts, Alyssa was one of only _ five _ women in first-class to not survive the sinking, and there has never been any evidence to contradict that, in spite of how welcome such news would have been. What you’re suggesting just doesn’t make sense.”

“I guess when you look at all the _ supposed _facts on paper, you would be right. But that’s the problem, Mr. Parker. People are so much more complex than that. They’re more than lists of facts or statistics on paper, or even a drawing or photograph. So why wouldn’t it make sense that a 17-year-old girl engaged to marry a 30-year-old man with violent tendencies would take an opportunity to... start anew?”

“Is _ that _ what you’re saying happened?” Billy looks at her incredulously. “The only child of a member of Moroccan _ royalty _would just disappear off the face of the Earth because of a guy?”

“It’s not what _ I’m _ saying, Bill. It’s what _ she _ said.” Jennifer is reaching into her crossbody bag and suddenly she’s producing a thick leather-bound journal. “Sometimes… the story is way more interesting than you could ever imagine.” She sets it down on the table in front of Billy just as the waitress walks up to take their order. “I’ll take the poutine, please. And a beer. Whatever’s good on tap.”

Billy sits in stunned silence for a few seconds, just looking at the book in front of him. Then he mumbles something about having the same thing she’s having before daring to touch the cover of the journal. “Is this… you’re saying this is… Alyssa wrote this? About what happened?”

Jennifer smiles at him - the closest thing to a genuine smile he’s seen yet - and lifts her shoulders slightly in a delicate shrug. “I guess you’ll have to read it to find out. I’ll be here if you have any questions, but it looks like the Raptors-Knicks game is about to start, so choose your times for asking wisely.” Then she’s shifting her body slightly to pay more attention to the television over the bar.

Billy takes a deep breath, wondering if he’s truly prepared to read what’s in these pages in his hands, wondering if he even believes any of this. He could not only be holding a heretofore unknown firsthand account of a Titanic survivor but one of the most well-known and mourned supposed tragedies of the incident. This book could change everything he and the rest of the world knows or thinks they know, and quite possibly lead him to the greatest treasure of his career. Or it could all be a load of bullshit; there is only one way to find out. To say he is overwhelmed with a dozen different emotions is an understatement, but he cracks the book open, nevertheless, and starts to read.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the actual story begins...

**CHAPTER 1**

_ April 14, 1996 _

_ It’s been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used, the sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called “The Ship of Dreams.” And it was, it really was. It was the ship of dreams… to everyone else. To me, it was a prison ship, taking me back to America in chains. Outwardly, I was everything a well brought up girl should be. (Except white, obviously.) Inside, I was screaming. _

The docks of Southampton were buzzing with giddiness and excitement as the hour neared noon on sailing day. Horse-drawn carriages, motorcars, and lorries moved slowly through the dense throng of people gathered on and around the pier next to Titanic. People embraced in tearful goodbyes, or waved and shouted bon voyage to loved ones on the decks above. White Star Line officials scrambled to finish loading cargo and check passengers.

A sleek, white Renault pushed through the crowds easily before finally coming to a stop on the dock almost right alongside the ship. A liveried driver scurried to open the passenger door for a young woman dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit, complete with an enormous feathered hat. Her beauty was as undeniable as the regal air with which she held herself, despite being only seventeen years of age.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about. It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mauretania,” she said, eyeing the steamer with cool appraisal. 

“You can be blasé about some things, Alyssa, but not about Titanic. It’s over a hundred feet longer than the Mauretania... and far more luxurious!” Greg boasted as he stepped out of the other passenger door. He then turned and made his way to the touring car behind them to assist Alyssa’s mother in her descent. “Your daughter is much too hard to impress, Veronica.”

Veronica Greene gazed up at the behemoth of a ship in wonder, clearly much more impressed than her daughter. “So this is the ship they say is unsinkable?” 

“It is unsinkable. God himself could not sink this ship,” Greg insisted, obviously proud at being able to flaunt this experience to the ladies. Alyssa just rolled her eyes in response. Only a white man would say something like that.

Greg’s valet and Alyssa and Veronica’s ladies’ maids, Shelby and Kaylee, made their way around to them and began unloading various items from both cars. A porter scurried up, distressed by the last-minute loading and boarding. He began to explain to Greg that he was supposed to check-in through the main terminal, but Greg simply handed the man a five dollar bill. 

“I put my faith in you, good sir. See my man about the details.” Greg indicated Lovejoy, his valet, who quickly began directing the poor fellow and several other lackeys around like an army general. There were well over a dozen suitcases, crates, and trunks, as well as a large steel safe. 

Greg breezed on, quickly checking his pocket watch. “We’d better hurry. This way, ladies.” He shoved his way through the crowd, leading them towards the first class gangway. 

“Honestly, Greg, if you weren’t forever booking everything at the last moment, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family,” Veronica scolded.

“It’s all part of my charm. At any rate, it was my darling fiancée’s beauty rituals which made us late.”

“You told me to change,” Alyssa argued, rolling her eyes.

“I couldn’t let you wear black on sailing day, sweetpea. It’s bad luck.”

“I felt like black,” Alyssa muttered snarkily. 

“Here I’ve pulled every string I could to book us onto the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites… and you act as if you’re being led to your execution,” Greg lamented with a shake of his head.

Alyssa looked up at the hull of Titanic as it loomed over them, a great iron wall, black and white and severe. She waited for as long as she could before Greg was beckoning her forward impatiently, and she entered the gangway to the D-Deck doors with a sense of overwhelming dread. The sound of the ship’s first departure warning echoed in Alyssa’s ears, and she wondered idly how many death knells were the usual custom.

* * *

Emma’s eyes darted to the window nervously at the sound of yet another departure warning from the ship docked only a couple of blocks away from the pub she was sitting in. It would not be docked for much longer, though, and she desperately hoped she would be one of the lucky people boarding it before it pushed off. But that meant that it was time for their card game to end.

“I can’t believe you bet  _ all  _ of our money,” her dear friend and partner-in-crime, Kevin, hissed at her under his breath, leaning closer.

“When you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose,” Emma replied just as quietly, shooting him a subtle wink.

She still couldn’t believe the two Swedes bet their tickets as part of the pot. Men and their dumb pride… she guessed they couldn’t stomach losing their money to a girl and they figured they could win it back with one last hand. Looking over at Kevin, who would be taking the other third-class ticket if they won, Emma nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alright, it’s the moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change,” she said calmly. Kevin and the Swedes put their cards down hesitantly while Emma kept hers close. “Kevin, you’ve got… nothing.” 

Kevin sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he might pass out due to nervousness. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Olaf also has nothing. Sven… uh oh, two pair… I’m sorry, Kevin...” Emma hung her head sheepishly, raking a hand through her hair.

“What do you mean, ‘sorry?’ You bet all our money! What do you have in your hand?” Kevin leapt to his feet, panic very clear in his voice and expression.

“... I’m sorry you’re gonna have to face your old man again sooner than you thought,” Emma continued, breaking into a cheeky grin and slamming her cards down on the table. “‘Cause we’re going home to America! Full house!”

“Seriously? YES!” Kevin jumped and punched upward in victory, hitting his hand on a crossbeam and swearing in the process.

Emma raked in the money and the tickets. “Sorry boys. No hard feelings, right?” She reached out a hand towards Olaf, who slowly stood and balled up a very meaty farmer’s fist. Emma closed her eyes and flinched as he raised it, fully prepared to be punched in the face, only to hear the sound of a fist connecting with someone else instead. She opened her eyes to see Sven lying on the ground, looking up in confusion at his cousin who was berating him in Swedish.

Kevin continued to whoop for joy, scooping Emma up into a big bear hug as they both shouted in celebration, “We’re going to America!”

“No, mates. Titanic is going to America. In five minutes!” The pubkeeper pointed at the clock behind the bar, laughing at the immediate look of worry on their faces.

“Oh shit!” Emma swore, pushing Kevin aside to grab her things while he did the same. “Come on, we gotta hurry!”

Both of them tore out of the pub at a breakneck pace, carrying everything they owned in the world in the bags slung over their shoulders. They sprinted towards the pier, dodging piles of luggage and weaving through groups of people. As soon as their feet hit the pier, Emma came to a dead stop, staring at the monstrous thing before her in awe. Kevin had to run back and drag her forward, but they booked it towards the third class gangway at E-Deck.

“Wait! We’re passengers!” Emma called out as they reached the bottom of the ramp, just as it was being detached. She waved the tickets in the air, panting heavily.

“Have you been through the inspection queue?” the officer asked.

“Of course!” Emma lied cheerfully, nudging Kevin who gave his biggest, goofiest smile.

“Right,” the officer said, clearly testy after a hectic morning. “Come aboard, then.”

“Thank you!” Kevin and Emma chimed in unison. Then they were being escorted through the entrance and were suddenly running again as they made their way along up the stairs towards the deck. Once they reached the railing with all the other people, Emma smiled and waved at the massive crowd below.

“Do you know somebody down there?” Kevin asked with a laugh.

“Of course not. That’s not the point,” Emma grinned and blew a dramatic kiss to no one in particular. “Goodbye, I’ll miss you so much!”

“Oh, what the hell? Bye, everyone! I will never forget you!” Kevin joined in, waving exuberantly.

They continued waving for a while, new faces coming into view below and then disappearing as the ship began to pull away towards the English Channel until eventually, the people on the docks were no longer visible. 

After a little while, Emma and Kevin headed below deck, still disheveled and out of breath from the rush onto the ship as they looked for their assigned room--well, Sven and Olaf’s assigned room. They found it at the end of a long corridor, the door ajar as the other two occupants, young men around Emma and Kevin’s age, were already getting settled. The quarters were going to be tight, but it was nothing Emma couldn’t handle.

She threw her bag onto the bottom bunk that had yet to be claimed, not wanting any rough waters to throw her out of bed in the night, and turned to the two strangers with a cordial smile. Her grandma always taught her to treat strangers as potential friends, though that kind of mentality always ran the risk of getting her in some trouble with the crowds she gravitated towards.

“Hey there, I’m Emma Nolan,” she said, extending her hand towards the men.

They both regarded her with confusion--several rounds of it.

“Uh, I’m Nick, and that’s Jules,” The shorter, stockier one of the two said after a beat, his hands going to his trouser pockets and leaving Emma standing there with her hand out like an idiot for a few more seconds before she put it down. “Not to be rude, but I think you two might have the wrong room. We’re waiting on a couple more friends.”

“Are your friends a couple a big, mean-lookin’ Swedes?” Kevin asked, crawling up into the top bunk and making himself comfortable, his hands behind his head on the pillow.

“How’d you know?” Jules asked, regarding them both with suspicion.

“‘Cause they were kind enough to give us our tickets home.” Kevin grinned wickedly.

Emma noticed the way Nick’s fists were balled up at his sides and figured it was time to step in before she bore witness to yet another knock-down brawl today. “Listen, we met up with Olaf and Sven at a tavern by the docks, we played a couple games of cards, and the gentlemen bet their tickets. What was I supposed to do, say no to a trip on the grandest ship in the world? I don’t think so. But I promise you, they were in fine shape when we left them, and I’m sure they’ll just catch the next one. So what do you boys say we go for a breather upstairs and get to know each other?”

Nick and Jules seemed to consider her words for a moment before they both nodded in agreement and Jules and Kevin led the way out of the room, while Nick lagged behind.

“So, uh, you’re a girl, right?” He asked, looking Emma up and down from her short hair to her trousers and suspenders. It was not the first time she’d been asked that.

“Last time I checked?” Emma said with a lilt in her voice, and she saw Nick crack a smile for the first time. “You can just ask the ladies of Montmartre.” She added with a waggle of her eyebrows, grabbing her sketchbook from her bag before she rushed to catch up to the others, laughing and leaving Nick stunned.

* * *

“No, it had a lot of faces on it… ah, this is the one!” Alyssa pulled yet another painting out of one of the storage crates, looking around the sitting room for a place to set it.

“Would you like all of them out, Miss?” Shelby asked.

“Yes, I think so. This room could use some color.” 

“Oh God, not those finger paintings again. Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money,” Greg complained as he came to stand in the doorway between the sitting room and their ostentatious private promenade deck. He had already downed half a bottle of champagne; Alyssa wondered why he was even bothering to use the glass.

“The difference between Greg’s taste in art and mine is that I have some,” Alyssa stated smugly and she shared a quiet giggle with Shelby. She finally settled on a place to put the painting, stepping back to admire it for a moment. “They’re fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something… there’s truth, but no logic.”

“What’s the artist’s name?” Shelby asked, leaning in.

“Something Picasso?” Alyssa read from the bottom of the canvas.

“‘Something Picasso,’” Greg mocked as he swaggered fully into the room. “He won’t amount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap.” One of the porters wheeled in Greg’s private safe then, stealing his attention away from the girls momentarily, much to Alyssa’s relief. “Oh, put that in the wardrobe!”

Alyssa took advantage of Greg’s distraction immediately and grabbed another painting, heading into the bedroom with Shelby dutifully on her heels. She placed the Degas of the dancers on the dresser near the canopy bed and shot Kaylee a polite smile where she was busy hanging up some of Alyssa’s clothes.

“It smells so brand new!” Kaylee breathed in wonder. “Like they built it just for us. Just think, when I climb between these sheets tonight, I’ll be the first!”

“And when  _ I _ crawl between these sheets tonight,” Greg blurted drunkenly from where he appeared in the doorway, “I’ll still be the first.” He pushed his way further into the room, his eyes taking in Alyssa with a lecherous glint. 

Alyssa saw Kaylee and Shelby share a concerned look in the mirror, but both of them remained planted firmly by her side even as Greg made it obvious he wished for privacy. As he was wont to do, Greg merely ignored them and slid up behind Alyssa, placing his hands possessively on her shoulders and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“The first and only,” he continued. “Forever.”

_ How presumptuous,  _ Alyssa thought, suddenly feeling physically nauseous at the idea of this drunken scoundrel having his way with her, and immensely grateful that Kaylee and Shelby were holding their ground. God knows what would have happened, otherwise.

“Miss, I think your mother wanted you to come to her suite so you can both decide what to wear for supper,” Shelby said carefully.

“Yes, I believe you’re right. Thank you, Shelby, for reminding me.” She turned and gave Greg what she hoped passed as an affectionate kiss on the cheek before edging around him and making a hasty exit, Shelby and Kaylee close behind.

“That was… aggressive,” Kaylee whispered once they were out of Greg’s earshot.

“I know,” Alyssa sighed, her expression dismal. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do tonight at bedtime.” 

“Well, you aren’t married yet,” Shelby mentioned. “Just tell him you want to wait and do it proper. He’s supposed to be a gentleman, right?”

“Titles and money mask a multitude of sins, I’m afraid,” Alyssa said. They had made it to her mother’s suite and easily let themselves in. Veronica was lounging on a chaise, flipping through various sketches of dress designs for Alyssa’s impending nuptials. 

“So,” Alyssa began, probably louder than was necessary and admittedly getting a bit of joy out of how her mother startled, “What are we wearing to supper, mother? Also, I do believe Greg just insinuated he wants tonight to be our wedding night, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do in this situation.”

“Well hello to you too, dear,” Veronica replied dryly. “And I’m not sure I know what you mean…”

“I’m not sure there’s any possible way to misconstrue what I just said.” Alyssa shook her head. There certainly seemed to be a lot that neither of them were sure of, at least on the surface and for propriety’s sake. Alyssa did not see the point in that since everyone here knew that she was marrying Greg out of financial necessity, and a wife was expected to perform certain wifely duties. This they were all sure of.

“Darling, you can’t feign surprise at a man wanting physical affection from his soon-to-be bride. Especially one as lovely as you.” Veronica coated her words with sugar to make them more palatable, but the truth was still bitter for Alyssa to swallow. 

Clearly she would be left to her own devices in how to avoid Greg’s advances. Well, her own devices and Shelby and Kaylee’s, and at least one could never say they lacked creativity. Deciding to drop what she deemed a hopeless cause, Alyssa busied herself with helping the girls unpack as much as she could before donning her evening attire. 

Dinner was served shortly after they docked at Cherbourg to pick up a few other passengers. One of those passengers was a man named Barry Glickman. Veronica and most of the others in first class turned their noses up at him. She told Alyssa that Barry was “new money” and from an artistic sort of people, so he was not someone they wanted to associate with. That immediately made Alyssa like him. 

Barry was funny and more than a little irreverent, and he seemed to be good friends with Dee Dee Allen, the wife of Tom Hawkins, the ship’s architect and builder. If Alyssa chose to stay longer than she normally would after dinner in order to engage them in conversation, it was simply because she found them endlessly entertaining. It had nothing to do with putting off going back to her suite. 

As it turned out, Greg was already passed smooth out by the time she returned to the room, and for the first time, Alyssa found herself grateful for his alcohol consumption. She decided to sleep on the chaise out in the sitting room, and thanked her lucky stars for being an early riser when she was able to wake up and slip out of their suite the next morning without alerting him.

By that afternoon, the ship had made its final stop and was steaming west from the coast of Ireland with nothing ahead of it but ocean. 

* * *

“Is the front of the ship the bow or the stern?” Kevin asked as he and Emma made their way up the stairs from below deck, having left Jules and Nick down below in the common room, where they likely continued to make a pathetic attempt to flirt with a couple of Norwegian girls who didn’t speak a lick of English.

“You haven’t memorized that by now? Haven’t you worked on ships?” Emma scoffed, amused as they emerged into the daylight.

“In boiler rooms. You don’t see much besides heaps of coal and a lot of sweaty men.” Kevin said as two young women in maids outfits passed them, one of them lingering long enough to smile at Kevin and wave her fingers at him. He usually had that effect on women.

“Mmm I bet you enjoyed that as much as I would have.” Emma muttered, craning her neck to get in a quick glance at their backsides before they continued on.

”You better be careful about that wandering eye of yours. I still remember what happened that night we got kicked out of the Moulin Rouge.” Kevin nudged her shoulder with his arm as they continued up-deck.

“I  _ just  _ wanted to draw her.” Emma blushed as she remembered the beautiful red-headed woman. The pattern of freckles on her cheeks was like a constellation of stars.

“Yeah and her fiancé  _ just  _ wanted to kick your teeth in.” Kevin climbed up to the very front of the ship, giving Emma a hand up.

“Well, that’s why I have you, Kev. To step in so I don’t have to suffer too much for my art.” Emma said, leaning over the railing and watching the water rush past beneath, crashing into the bow of the ship a good sixty feet below. “Besides, you should be thanking me. If not for my lucky hand, we’d still be in that boarding house with the rat problem.”

“This ship’s got rats, too. Most beautiful ship ever built and it’s still got rats.” Just then a couple of dolphins breached just a head of the ship, almost as if they were trying to prove they could outrun it, and the sight was enough to draw a gasp from Kevin.

“But what a view, right?” Emma asked, looking out at the vast ocean ahead of them. There wasn’t so much as a cloud in the sky.

“I can see the Statue of Liberty already. She’s pretty small, though.” Kevin laughed at his own joke as Emma climbed up on the railing, balancing her feet on either side as she threw her arms out at her sides, feeling the fresh sea air rush all around her.

For once, Emma didn’t have to think about where her next meal would come from, or where she would sleep, or whether one day her letters back to her grandmother in Edgewater would be returned to her unopened. It didn’t matter who she was or where she came from. Right there and then, she felt as if she was capable of anything.

“I’m the king of the world!” She shouted into the distance, whooping and laughing until Kevin was pulling her down.

“Stop, you’re embarrassing us!” He said, playfully smacking her on the arm as he gestured around to a couple of onlooking passengers. They all stared at this young bespectacled woman in men’s clothes as if she’d gone completely mad, which wasn’t helped as Emma broke into another fit of laughter at their faces.

* * *

No sooner had Alyssa suffered through breakfast with her mother and Greg than she was being settled in the Palm Court Restaurant with all of the ‘best’ first-class passengers for lunch. It was a beautiful day outside, the sun streaming in through the glass ceiling overhead. The pointless pleasantness of the atmosphere and conversations made Alyssa’s opposing mood even worse.

“She is the largest moving object ever made by man in all of history,” boasted Mr. Ismay, Director of White Star Line. “And our master shipbuilder here, Mr. Hawkins, designed her from the keel plates up.”

Tom Hawkins waved off the praise, clearly seeming uncomfortable with the attention. “Well I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay’s. He envisioned a steamer so grand that it’s supremacy could never be challenged. And here she is, willed into solid reality.” He slapped the table in front of him to further emphasize his point.

“Now sweetheart, you’re being modest,” Dee Dee said, touching his shoulder affectionately. Then she turned to the table at large. “He’s a genius and he won’t admit it, but fortunately I brag enough for the both of us.” 

Everyone laughed and the conversation continued on for several minutes until the waiter showed up to take their orders. Alyssa chose that moment when she thought everyone would be distracted to light a cigarette. It wasn’t about it being something she necessarily  _ liked  _ so much as something her mother immensely  _ disliked. _

“You know I don’t like that, Alyssa,” Veronica said sternly, fixing Alyssa with a glare as she pointedly exhaled and some of the smoke made its way towards her face.

“She knows.” Greg plucked the cigarette from the long holder in Alyssa’s fingers and stubbed it out before turning to the waiter at his side. “We’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce.” The waiter then moved on and Greg turned back to Alyssa. “You like lamb, don’t you, sweetpea?” 

Alyssa took in a deep breath, blinking rapidly and fighting tears of frustration at the ease with which everyone just disregarded her. Once she was sure she could remain composed, she looked sideways at Greg and just smiled blithely at him.

“You gonna cut her meat for her too, Greg?” Barry asked, eyebrows raised as he regarded them with interest and what looked like concern. Seeming to sense the tension, he quickly changed the subject. “So… who thought of the name ‘Titanic?’ Was it you, Ismay?”

“Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size! And size means luxury, stability, and above all, strength--”

“Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay,” Alyssa interrupted, needing to say something and be heard for once instead of listening to such menial ramblings. Everyone definitely heard her. Mr. Hawkins choked slightly on his breadstick, suppressing his laughter while Barry and Dee Dee guffawed outright. Veronica was nowhere near amused.

“Alyssa, what has gotten into you?” she snapped.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa muttered and promptly stood and stalked away, not wanting any of them to see her cry. They would not have her tears. It was one thing they could not have.

* * *

Emma sat with Kevin and her new friends on the poop deck, the heat of the afternoon sun a welcome treat to balance out the chilly wind from the ocean. She rather liked most of the people she had met so far… they seemed to be her type of crowd. Almost everyone in third class was warm and welcoming, and just happy to be there. 

This included the mother and daughter she was currently drawing. The woman’s name was Angie, and she was a dancer back in New York. She’d been on holiday in England and was on her way back home. Cora, her little girl, was three years old and absolutely precious. Angie had lifted Cora up to stand on the bottom rung of the railing to get a better look at the seagulls swarming about, her arms never leaving their secure place around the child except to point at something with one hand.

Kevin peered over Emma’s shoulder and she shifted a little to give him a better look at her work. He nodded appreciatively and smiled, giving her a thumbs up. Their attention was immediately drawn behind them at the sound of shrill yapping. A crew member was walking three separate dogs, and was clearly not too thrilled about it.

“That’s typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shit,” Nick grumbled after they were past.

“That’s so we know where we rank in the scheme of things,” Emma said with a rueful grin.

“Like we could forget,” Jules added.

“You make any money with your drawings?” Nick asked, pointing at Emma’s mostly finished sketch.

Emma intended to answer, truly she did. But her eyes were suddenly drawn to behind Nick, up and across the well deck to the B-Deck promenade. Standing there at the aft railing was the most beautiful young woman Emma had ever seen. Even with sixty or more feet between them, Emma felt confident about that fact.

Dark curly hair that, even pinned up, Emma knew was something most women would be envious of, a complexion darker than Emma had seen in the sea of the homogeneous first-class crowd, but it only contributed to her beauty. She was elegant, dressed to the nines, but not in the way so many of the older ladies Emma had spotted from the deck were, in their gaudy furs and hats fit for the Kentucky Derby. There was a softness to this one, a gentleness as she gazed out at the horizon, but there was also a kind of sadness about her that broke Emma’s heart.

Then the woman was looking around, and suddenly her eyes had locked with Emma’s.

She felt her heart pounding in her ears as the girl’s hand went up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear while she continued to regard Emma in a way no other first-class passengers had since they first set sail.

As quickly as it began, the moment was over as a well-dressed, objectively good-looking if not posh and stern man came out to join the woman on the deck, his hand moving possessively to her waist as he led her back inside and she made a feeble attempt to shrug him off. Her whole demeanor shifted and a part of Emma wanted to climb up there and get this creep away, even if that meant facing the wrath of the crewmen in charge of shooing the third-class passengers away from the higher decks like vermin.

“Oh, you can forget about  _ that,  _ girly.” Nick chuckled, having witnessed the entire thing. “She’s as forbidden to us as that fancy exercise room upstairs.”

“I know that.” Emma grumbled and hastily finished her drawing of Angie and Cora, scribbling in  _ April 11, 1912 EN  _ at the bottom of the page.

Emma couldn’t help but chance one more glance back up at where her mystery woman had last been seen, and she felt something oddly warm and comforting settle in her chest… something like hope. She had been stupidly lucky lately; maybe she still had a little bit of luck left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We promise they will interact next chapter, okay? We're just suckers for the way the movie builds them up and brings them together! Anyway, please yell at us in the comments!


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you've seen Titanic, you probably figured this was coming, but regardless:  
TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ATTEMPTED SUICIDE!

**CHAPTER 2**

_ I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it... an endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches... always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull me back, no one who cared... or even noticed. _

  
“She’s a pistol, Greg. You sure you can handle her?”

“I may have to start minding what she reads from now on.”

Those last bits of the conversation made their way to Alyssa’s ears as she retreated from the lunch table and out onto the deck. She wasn’t someone to be “handled” or “sheltered” from topics that could “corrupt or confuse her poor young, feminine mind.” It seemed she was destined to either be disregarded entirely, or micromanaged until not a single ounce of her true self remained.

She was nothing to them. In their world, she merely existed as an extension of Greg and her mother. Nobody _ saw her _. 

And then... someone did.

At first glance, she thought it was just some third-class boy staring at her from down and across the well deck, but then she noticed the curve of her hips, and the way her hair was just a bit longer than would be fashionable for a man-- not that this woman (Girl? She was too far away to know for certain.) necessarily seemed to _ care _ about fashion.

_ What are you looking at? _ Alyssa thought, looking around to make sure there wasn’t some kind of spectacle taking place behind her before realizing that no, the girl was _ definitely _staring at her, and then without thinking, she was self-consciously tucking a strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear.

Their gazes held for a few more seconds, and unexpectedly Alyssa felt a slight blush creep across her cheeks. Okay so _ maybe _ the girl had an undeniably winsome quality about her, even at such a distance. But Alyssa was taught from a young age that she was never supposed to entertain those kinds of thoughts, under any circumstances.

Alyssa was just beginning to think that perhaps she should do the proper, ladylike thing and avert her eyes when she felt a less-than-gentle hand take hold of her waist. She did avert her eyes then, whirling around to see Greg standing way too close for comfort and with a hard, impassive expression on his face.

“That was highly improper what you just did, dear. Fortunate that I was present to smooth things over after your little scene. You will watch what you say in the future.” It was an order as he began to lead Alyssa back inside.

Alyssa tried to move away, to no avail. “Get your hands off me, Greg,” she said coldly, already resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t listen to her.

Of course, he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in close to her ear, almost as if in a gesture of intimacy, before he was whispering, “Careful, _ sweetpea _or you and your mother will end up right back in the gutter where I found you.” 

And he meant it. Alyssa could tell by the callousness with which he spoke, the way his fingers dug possessively into her side, but most of all by the sadistic glint in his otherwise emotionless eyes. Deciding to err on the side of self-preservation, Alyssa stopped resisting for the moment and let herself be led back inside to play the part of the dutiful daughter and fiancée, all while she felt another part of herself starting to slip from her grasp.

She made it through the rest of lunch and their afternoon socializing without issue. Which is to say that she effectively dissociated from most of what was going on around her. She smiled and laughed and made vapid comments when it was necessary, but mainly everything going on around her seemed inconsequential. Or perhaps she was.

It all came to a head at dinner where Greg and her mother were laughing heartily at something one of the countesses had said, and everyone around her seemed so content and full of joy. The world began to slowly spiral out of control, while at the same time closing in around her. Suddenly she could no longer breathe properly, and so she excused herself as calmly as she could, bitterly thankful that no one seemed to care or pay much mind anyway.

Alyssa was able to make it back to her suite before she finally broke. She stood in the center of the grand room, staring at her reflection in the obscenely large vanity mirror and all she could think was how much she did not want to be _ this _ person. With an anguished cry, she clawed at the restrictive pearl necklace at her throat, ripping it and sending the pearls exploding across the room. She tore at her clothes and yanked the comb out of her hair before attacking the vanity, sending everything on it clattering to the floor.

Once the first wave of anger started to subside, she glanced around her at the mess she had made, her eyes coming to rest on her personalized hand mirror. The glass was cracked and the Alyssa looking back at her was fractured into several pieces, which felt oddly appropriate. She let out a humorless laugh that quickly became a broken sob, and suddenly she was running.

People looked shocked as she barreled past them, clothes and hair disheveled and flying, cheeks streaked with tears. She was shaking with too many emotions to comprehend: hatred, self-hatred, anger, hopelessness. But even worse than all of that was to be numb like she had been before. She just wanted all of it to stop.

She kept running, her vision blurred by the wind and tears in her eyes until she came to the flagpole at the stern of the ship. She collapsed against it briefly, chest heaving with the occasional sob as she looked out at the black water below. The ocean was so vast and powerful; no one dared to try and tame it or command it. It could consume cities with one wave… it could easily sweep her away from the bleakness of the life she was destined to live.

She could _ make _ it all stop, she decided. And then she was hitching her dress up above her ankles and starting to climb over the railing. It was the ultimate act of defiance, a final exercise of her own free will. She _ would _ make it all stop. 

* * *

Kicked back on one of the benches near the stern, Emma gazed up at the stars that hung so gloriously overhead. A sweet, simple melody had been drifting through her head all day, so she came out on deck to have some quiet and mull over the notes. She hummed to herself while her fingers danced lightly through the air, itching to work the chords out on a guitar. She missed her other creative outlet dearly, but unfortunately, her guitar had been stolen in London and she lacked the funds to acquire a new one.

Her peace and quiet was shattered as a figure bolted up the stairs from the well deck and towards the very back of the ship. Whoever it was didn’t seem to see Emma where she was lounging in the shadows. Emma could swear she heard the person crying. No, not crying. They were sobbing. Full-bodied, gut-wrenching sobs.

Emma sat up and watched in increasing horror as the distressed, wild-haired young woman began to climb over the ship’s railing. 

“Oh _ shit,” _ she muttered under her breath, and she was up and moving towards the girl as carefully as she could while also making damn sure she would get there in time.

Which seemed more likely as soon as the girl hesitated, her hands on the railing behind her as she looked down at the water (and the raging propellers) so far down below. She was still crying, though her louder sobs had been replaced by some sniffling as the full weight of what she was about to do had apparently hit her.

“Don’t do it,” Emma said softly, but it was still enough to make the girl jump slightly as she kept a firm grip on the railing.

She turned to look over her shoulder at Emma, fear in her eyes, and Emma recognized her immediately as the same woman she’d seen earlier that day. Except, upon closer inspection, she was a _ lot _younger than Emma had imagined. And apparently in a far worse place than it had seemed. “S-Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” She tried to sound firm, but her voice was shaky.

Emma took another step towards her, her right hand outreached. “Please. You don’t have to do this. Take my hand, I’ll pull you back in.”

“No, stay where you are! I mean it, I’ll let go!” The girl pushed forward slightly, leaning further away from the ship while still maintaining a tight grip on the railing. Her eyes kept darting frantically back and forth between the water below and Emma, who was trying to figure out the smartest way to play it so the girl would climb back over the railing to safety.

Reasoning that if the girl truly wanted to die, she wouldn’t be hesitating so much, Emma opted for a more casual approach. She took a few more slow, measured steps forward, but a little ways to the side so that she still gave the girl some space.

“No you won’t,” Emma said calmly, slipping her hands into her pockets. She just needed to get her talking… she needed a way in to help her.

“What do you mean no I won’t?” The girl frowned at her, clearly confused by what was probably the last thing most people would be saying in that scenario. “Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don’t know me.”

_ Ah, defiance. I can work with that _ , Emma thought. _ Defiant people are fighters, and fighters want to live. _

“Well, you would have done it already,” Emma reasoned. “Now come on, why don’t you let me help you back over?”

“You’re distracting me! Go away!” she snapped.

“I can’t. I’m involved now,” Emma said, shifting her tactics a little. “If you let go, I’m gonna have to jump in there after you.” Then she was removing her jacket and tossing it to the deck behind her.

The girl looked at Emma as if that were the most ridiculous notion in the world. “Don’t be absurd. You’ll be killed,” she said, sounding surprisingly reasonable for someone prepared to jump to a very unpleasant and drawn-out death.

“I’m a good swimmer,” Emma assured her, getting to work on unlacing one of her shoes.

“The fall alone would kill you.”

“It would hurt, I’m not saying it wouldn’t. To be honest, I’m a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.”

Those words seemed to, appropriately, act like cold water splashed in the girl’s face. She glanced back down and several emotions played out across her features in a matter of seconds. It was as if she was finally realizing the gravity of what she was about to do.

“How cold?” she asked.

“Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over?” Emma shrugged and finished removing her left shoe before starting on the laces of the right one.

_ Keep her talking, Emma. She’s coming around. _

“Ever been to the Upper Midwest?” Emma continued as conversationally as possible.

“What? No?” The girl looked thoroughly perplexed by the question.

“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up in Edgewater, Indiana, so it’s pretty close to the Great Lakes. Once when I was a kid, my father insisted on taking me ice-fishing. Ice-fishing is where you chop a hole in the--”

“I know what ice-fishing is!” 

“Sorry!” Emma held her hands up defensively. “You just… seem like more of an ‘indoor’ girl. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice. And I’m tellin’ ya, water that cold… like that right down there…” Emma nodded towards the churning waves below them, “it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think… at least not about anything but the pain.”

Emma’s words seemed to be getting through to her somewhat, if the torn and newly fearful look on the girl’s face was any indication. Her eyes were staying mostly on Emma now, and she hadn’t jerked away as Emma had slowly slid closer during their conversation. There were only a couple of feet separating them at this point.

“Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in after you,” Emma sighed and kicked off her other shoe. “But like I said, I don’t have a choice.” Emma unbuttoned her wool vest and shrugged it aside as well, trying to ignore the chilly evening air. “I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ll come back over the rail and let me off the hook.”

“You’re crazy,” she said, albeit halfheartedly.

“That’s what everybody says,” Emma agreed, smiling softly. “But with all due respect Miss, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.” She stepped closer, bringing herself right up to the rail behind the girl. “Come on, you don’t want to do this. Give me your hand.”

She stared at Emma for a long time, her eyes searching for something in Emma’s and apparently finding enough of a lifeline to grab onto as she took Emma’s hand and carefully turned around on the rail. Emma knew that, if the circumstances were different, she wouldn’t be able to resist getting lost in the girl’s dark, captivating eyes.

“I’m Emma Nolan,” she introduced herself, and the girl, amused at the absurdity of the circumstances, finally broke into a slightly wobbly smile.

“I’m Alyssa Greene.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alyssa. All things considered.” Emma grinned lightheartedly at her as she offered out her other hand to help Alyssa climb back over the rail. “One foot at a time. I promise, I won’t let go,” she murmured as Alyssa tried to not trip over her fancy-looking dress. To be safe, Emma moved her hands under Alyssa’s arms, intent on lifting her the rest of the way over when Alyssa’s foot caught on the railing, and for the briefest of moments she lost all footing on the ship. 

The moment may have been brief, but it was frightening enough for Alyssa to let out a shriek of terror. Emma immediately had her arms wrapped under Alyssa’s and around the top of her torso, and Alyssa, in turn, clung onto her for dear life. Alyssa kicked her feet back onto the railing and pushed up as Emma pulled, then they were toppling forward onto the deck, Emma sprawled atop Alyssa as she twisted her body mid-fall to make sure she was secure.

Emma could feel Alyssa’s chest heaving under her as she tried to catch her breath, a look of relief washing over her face as she realized that, for now at least, she was safe. She was alive. And then her eyes met Emma’s, and for the second time that night, Emma could not believe the beauty in them. Only where there had been fear and sadness in them before, now there was… something else.

Just as it was occurring to Emma that she ought to get off this poor girl, there was a commotion behind her and suddenly she was being hauled upward by the back of her shirt.

“Oi, what’s all this?!” the officer demanded an explanation. A cursory glance at the situation was pretty damning. Alyssa was sprawled out on the deck, hair and clothes disheveled, dress ripped, and she had obviously been crying a lot. There were articles of Emma’s clothing strewn about and she had been on top of Alyssa, who had just screamed in obvious distress.

“Wait a minute…” The officer’s brows knit together in confusion. “You’re not a bloke...” He was slowly beginning to release his vice-like grip on Emma, but then it was as if something clicked into place in his head. He took another look at Emma’s general presentation, and the situation in which he had found her, and Emma knew the moment his eyes narrowed again that his mind was already made up as to whether or not she was guilty.

“Fetch the Master at Arms!”

* * *

“Like I already said, she wasn’t doing anything to me!” Alyssa tried to shy away from the crew member attempting to wrap her in a crisis blanket.

Granted, she _ had been _ in a crisis earlier that evening, but it had nothing to do with the woman the Master at Arms was putting into handcuffs like some kind of criminal. And to Emma’s credit, she was just looking more annoyed than anything. Alyssa was beginning to think that this kind of thing may have been a frequent occurrence for a person like her... though maybe not _ this _ situation in particular.

“What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancée?!” Greg had been pacing back and forth in front of Emma for several seconds. _ Of course _ the officers had felt it necessary to fetch him after they realized who Alyssa was. This was no longer about Alyssa… this was about him and someone daring to encroach on what he viewed as _ his _. 

Emma glanced over at Alyssa, not saying anything.

“Look at _ me _, you filth!” Greg snarled, grabbing Emma by the front of her shirt with both hands. “What did you think you were doing?!”

“Greg, stop!” Alyssa pleaded as she rushed forward and tried to insert herself between him and Emma. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” Greg looked at her incredulously but let himself be pushed back a couple of steps. 

_ Oh great _ , Alyssa thought. _ Now what am I going to tell him happened? _

“It was… stupid, really,” Alyssa began, fumbling her words as she tried to manufacture a believable excuse. Luckily she could blame her jitteriness on the ordeal she had just been through. “I was leaning _ really far _over to look at the uh… uh…” She made a spinning motion with her finger, forgetting the word momentarily. “Propellers! Yeah, I was leaning over to get a look at the propellers, and I slipped.”

Alyssa chose that moment to make eye contact with Emma, who was just looking at Alyssa in bewilderment. 

“You wanted to see the propellers?” Greg repeated. He looked thoroughly bemused by the whole situation.

“Yes! And I would have gone overboard, but luckily Miss Nolan here saved me.” Alyssa smiled gratefully as she continued to look at Emma. Her eyes had narrowed only slightly in response to Alyssa’s lies, but her mouth twitched a little as if tempted to smile.

“Was that the way of it?” the Master at Arms asked Emma. 

Everyone was looking at Emma expectantly, but Emma hadn’t looked away from Alyssa, who was currently pleading Emma with her eyes to play along.

“Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty much it,” Emma said.

“Well, the girl’s a hero then! Good for you, well done!” decreed another one of the officers, who Alyssa thought introduced himself as Trent Oliver.

The Master at Arms uncuffed Emma and Greg rubbed up and down on Alyssa’s arms in a feeble attempt to warm her. Alyssa shivered involuntarily but it had less to do with the temperature and more to do with her distaste for his touch.

“Let’s get you inside. You’re freezing,” he said, beginning to head back in without a second thought for Emma. Alyssa frowned and planted her feet, refusing to let herself be led away without properly thanking Emma. She was just about to say something when Trent beat her to it.

“Ah, perhaps a little something for the girl?” Trent muttered to Greg, who looked momentarily bothered by the fact that some sailor had dared to call him out on his ungrateful behavior.

“Oh, right,” Greg spared a brief glance at Emma over his shoulder, then looked over at his valet. “Mr. Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it.”

Alyssa felt her temper flare at the cold, detached manner in which Greg dealt with people. “Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?” she asked in disbelief.

“Alyssa is displeased.” Greg considered this for a moment. “Hmm… what to do…” He looked over at Emma, condescension clear in his appraisal. “Ah, I know!” He snapped his fingers and crossed over towards her. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow night, to regale our group with your heroic tale?”

Surprise flashed across Emma’s face, followed by uncertainty, but then she looked over at Alyssa, who smiled and nodded in encouragement. “Sure, count me in.”

“Good, that’s settled then.” Greg gave Emma a nod of acknowledgment before quickly turning on his heel and walking away. As he passed Alyssa, he wrapped an arm around her and brought her with him. 

She let him lead her away, but allowed herself one more glance over her shoulder at the complete enigma of a woman who had just, unwittingly or not, risked her life and freedom to help a total stranger.

_ Emma Nolan. _ Alyssa smiled softly to herself. _ Remarkable. _

* * *

“So… I hear the pay’s good in being a valet,” Emma said casually to Lovejoy as she watched Alyssa go, catching her looking back just once before her jerk of a fiancé led her inside. Emma hadn’t had the chance to ask what drove Alyssa into such a desperate state, but she’d bet the crisp twenty in her pocket that _ Greg _had played a big part in it.

And for that, she already hated the guy.

“It depends on who you work for,” he replied, his eyes looking her up and down and then drifting to her discarded coat and vest strewn about the deck before going back to her untied shoes. “You’ll want to tie those,” he said coldly.

“Uh, yeah,” Emma said, kneeling down and giving herself a couple double knots, expecting Lovejoy to be gone when she was done, but he was still standing there, considering her as if he were some kind of Sherlock Holmes about to crack the big case wide open.

“It _ is _ interesting that the lady slipped so suddenly, and yet you had the time to rid yourself of your jacket _ and _ your shoes.” He gave Emma a final look as if to say, ‘ _ I’ll be watching you like a hawk from now on, steerage ruffian’ _before he followed his master inside like a good boy.

“Cripes,” Emma said under her breath and headed below deck, stopping for a quick bite to eat in the mess hall, where she found Nick and Kevin, surprisingly with the two maids from earlier that day.

It appeared she simply couldn’t avoid the first-class crowd that night.

“Em, c’mere! I need you to prove something to Shelby here,” Kevin said, waving her down to join them at their table.

She rolled her eyes and hoped this wouldn’t be like the last time she’d had to act as a character witness for him. “What is it you’re telling this poor girl, Kevin?” she asked, spreading some margarine on a piece of bread.

“Did I or did I not meet Thomas Edison the last time we were in New York?” he asked as Shelby rolled her eyes. Clearly she didn’t really care one way or the other, if the way her hand had come to casually rest on Kevin’s was any indication.

Emma sighed. “He definitely met a white-haired man in Central Park who may or may not have been Thomas Edison, but he’s convinced that it was.”

“It was! It was during the Electrical Show, and I helped him load some copper into his automobile.”

“Uh-huh. And I was Tesla’s waiter in Brooklyn.” Nick said with a roll of his eyes.

“Boys, it’s fine,” Shelby’s friend piped up. “Nick, what was it you were saying about working on bridges? I bet you have to be able to lift a lot of heavy stuff to do that kind of work.”

“Ooh good point, Kaylee,” Shelby nodded and they both exchanged a look that was clearly one of shared victory. 

Emma shook her head, chuckling to herself. She didn’t know Kaylee and Shelby, but she could already tell that the boys were probably a little out of their depth with those two.

“Aw, that’s nothing. You should try working in a boiler room on a ship like this,” Kevin said, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and flexing his bicep, which Shelby touched hesitantly and giggled.

Emma had had enough. “So, you girls work in first-class? Must be interesting.”

“Sometimes. Mostly we just have to clean up their messes. Our boss’s daughter completely wrecked her room earlier tonight.” Kaylee shook her head. “She hasn’t been okay since Greg proposed.”

Suddenly, Emma had a very good idea of who they were talking about, and this conversation got that much more interesting.

“I told you, there’s something wrong with her. The night they got engaged, she cried for hours and hours. Wouldn’t even come down to the party.” Shelby had a bit of sympathy in her voice, but there was also some disdain.

“I mean, maybe she just doesn’t love him?” Emma offered weakly, and Kaylee and Shelby looked at her as if she was the biggest idiot they had ever encountered.

“She’s engaged to _ Gregory Hockley,” _ Kaylee said as if that name was supposed to mean something to Emma. “He’s set to inherit so much money, his children’s children could never even dream of spending it all. He’s a bit of a cad, but he treats Alyssa like a princess.”

“Well, she sort of _ is _a princess, isn’t she?” Shelby supplied.

That was probably the worst time for Emma to have chosen to steal a sip of Guinness from Kevin as it promptly tried to make its way back out via her nose when she choked.

“A p-princess?” Emma sputtered, eyes watering.

“Not _ really _but she’s definitely related to the Moroccan royal family somehow. I guess that was a bit of a scandal back when Mrs. Greene married Alyssa’s father,” Kaylee spoke garrulously, as if she never got the opportunity to speak ill of her employers that she obviously knew far too much about.

“Tell me again why we’re bothering with all this rich people bullshit?” Nick asked, downing the rest of his beer. “Way I see it, every last one of ‘em is a crook. They don’t even act like real people.”

Emma thought back to Alyssa. Just a scared girl who had come to the conclusion that the only way forward would be to end it all. To her, that was as real as it gets, but she sat idly by as the subject was changed to things like where she and Kevin had traveled, or how Nick had done repairs on _ the _London Bridge until everyone called it a night. She lay awake in bed for a while afterward, just thinking about big brown eyes and the softest hands she’d ever felt.

* * *

Everything in Alyssa’s room was picked up and perfectly organized on her dresser when she returned. She felt a pang of guilt at the trouble Shelby and Kaylee probably went to to pick up all the pearls that had flown everywhere. 

The maids were nowhere to be found, but Alyssa hoped they were somewhere having more fun than she was.

She made quick work out of changing into her nightgown and robe before sitting down at the vanity and running a brush through her hair. A few moments passed before some movement in the mirror caught her eye, causing her to jump slightly. She turned around to see Greg leaning in the doorway, regarding her in a way she hadn’t quite seen before. 

“I know you’ve been melancholy, and I don’t pretend to know why.” His voice was unexpectedly tender as he walked carefully towards her and knelt down by her side. Then he was producing a black velvet case from behind his back. “I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week. But I thought after the ordeal tonight… perhaps as a reminder of my feelings for you.”

Greg opened the case, presenting a necklace unlike any Alyssa could ever imagine, much less had seen before. The focal point of the piece was a glittering, heart-shaped blue stone the size of a large walnut, outlined completely with white diamonds, and the entire chain was made of linked diamonds. It was glorious, but also too much in a way that was borderline unpleasant.

Alyssa gasped. “My God, Greg… is it a--”

“A diamond? Yes, it is. 56 carats, to be precise. Here, let me…” He set the case down on the dresser and removed the necklace from its velvet cushion within. Then he brought his arms about to settle it around Alyssa’s neck, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “It was once worn by Louis the Sixteenth. They call it ‘Le Coeur de la Mer,’ the--”

“The Heart of the Ocean,” Alyssa easily translated. She gulped as she felt the weight of it settle around her throat. “It’s… it’s overwhelming.”

“Of course. It’s for royalty. And we _ are _ royalty, Alyssa.” Greg gave her what was supposed to be one of his most charming smiles. “You know, there’s nothing I couldn’t give you… there’s nothing I would deny you, if you wouldn’t deny me. Open your heart to me, Alyssa.”  
  
  
_He thought he was being so suave and clever. He asked me to open my heart to him, but we both knew what he really wanted me to open for him. Well, he wasn’t getting either of them. Not that night, nor any other. Of course, his gift was only to reflect light back onto himself anyway, to illuminate the greatness that was Gregory Hockley. It was a cold stone… a heart of ice. After all these years, I can still feel it closing around my throat like a dog collar._

* * *

* * *

“If you get gravy on that, I swear to Christ I’ll punch you again,” Jennifer snaps at Billy from across the table.

“Oh, shit! Sorry…” Billy pushes the book a little to the side and makes sure to hold his fork over his plate as he continues to eat. Admittedly, he has been super careful so far, but the last few paragraphs have _ really _ thrown his brain for a loop.

“You’ve got a weird look on your face,” Jennifer says curiously. “I mean, not like there’s any part of this situation that _isn’t_ weird, but still…” She glances back at the T.V. and there’s a collection of disgruntled noises, including Jennifer’s own, “Oh, come on! That was totally a foul!” 

“Well, it’s just… it’s interesting. See, I’m very inclined to believe everything that’s written here because it all seems to line up to a T. There are things she mentions about the necklace and the personal lives of everyone who was there that could only be known by someone who was there.”

“But?” Jennifer smirks slightly, waiting for him to continue and clearly enjoying watching him squirm as he tries to phrase his next sentences carefully.

“But…” Billy takes a few seconds to meet her eyes, smiling a little sheepishly. “I’m… I don’t want to make assumptions or anything. But this book seems to be implying that Alyssa was…”

“A lesbian?” Jennifer finishes for him, eyebrow raised. “They existed before Ellen, you know.”

“No, I know that! Actually as far as I’ve read, they probably flew way under the radar back then because the notion just didn’t occur to most people-- what?” Billy stops talking for a second, feeling a little odd at the new way Jennifer is suddenly regarding him.

“Nothing. It’s just rare to hear a straight dude say something about lesbians and gay history that isn’t totally fucking asinine.” She huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head and taking a drink of her beer. “Anyway… what were you trying to say?”

“Oh… uhh, well… this Emma Nolan,” Billy continues, “I’ve studied the lists of passengers and survivors and people who were counted on the Carpathia and even the ones from Ellis Island more times than I would have liked to. I don’t remember that name on any of them.”

Jennifer gives Billy another one of her enigmatic, knowing smiles, taking another purposeful bite of her food and chewing carefully before simply saying, “Just keep reading, Billy.”

Groaning in what is (mostly) mock frustration - because he is gonna read this whole thing cover-to-cover regardless, by God - Billy picks the book back up to begin reading again. He makes a great show out of very carefully reaching for a fry and he thinks he sees Jennifer actually crack another genuine smile out of the corner of his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was rough, guys! Making it through writing that was a big hurdle but HEY THEY'VE MET NOW AND ALSO THAT HORRIBLE AWFULNESS IS OVER! Now the swoon-worthy romance can begin!
> 
> As always, please feel free to yell at us in the comments. We love it! 
> 
> (Also if there are any additional triggers you would like flagged or something, please don't hesitate to let us know.)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that got REAL gay, REAL fast, y'all.

_ The next day, I remember marveling at how the sunlight felt. As if I hadn’t truly felt the sun in years… _

The third-class general room may have been stark by comparison to the opulence of first-class, but that was only on the very surface. Where first-class was stiff and relatively quiet with everything meticulously in its own place, steerage was loud and boisterous and full of people living life without much restraint. The din was comprised of yelling children and their parents, raucous laughter, shouts in several languages, and the playing of a piano that was situated in the corner.

Emma sat on one of the many benches, her sketchbook open in her lap and little Cora huddled against her side as the child made an attempt at drawing a portrait of her mother, Angie, who was sitting across from them reading a book. Angie would occasionally look up and smile encouragingly at them or make a silly face, which made Cora giggle and admonish her to “be still for the artist.”

“You’re a natural at this. Much better than I was when I was your age. I’d draw people like this.” Emma used her spare Conte crayon to draw a small stick figure in the corner of the page, earning a squeal and giggle from Cora as she pushed her hand away.

“No, you’ll ruin it,” she said as she began to color in her mother’s wool overcoat.

“Oh, of course. My mistake,” Emma said with a smile as she watched the little girl work diligently, Cora’s scrunched up concentration face threatening to make her giggle herself, which was the last thing she wanted to do while mentoring an aspiring young artist.

Emma was vaguely aware that the noise in the room had begun to die down, but she was so occupied with what she was doing that she didn’t pay it any mind until someone was patting her shoulder trying to get her attention. She looked back at Kevin to see what he wanted and he just pointed in the opposite direction, a look of wonder on his face. Emma turned around to see what he was pointing at and immediately realized why everyone had gotten so quiet. 

Alyssa Greene was making her way towards them, her eyes scanning the faces of everyone in the vicinity until they landed on Emma. 

She wore a white and gold dress that was a far cry from the red and black frilly nightmare that had almost succeeded in killing her. The way the light shone on her through the windows gave her skin a sort of otherworldly glow. Her hair was styled in neatly pinned-up curls, a few left to artfully frame her face. She hardly resembled the wild-eyed, desperate woman Emma had encountered at her lowest moment (or so she assumed) the night before. 

Alyssa looked completely out of place, clearly self-conscious as everyone openly stared at her as if she were a princess among commoners. Still, she maintained a polite smile as she continued walking straight towards Emma.

It took Emma several seconds to process what was happening - that she should probably try and get herself together since it looked like she was being summoned - because she, like almost everyone else in the room, was too busy gawking. Then it all hit her at once and she was scrambling to her feet, doing her best not to send poor Cora tumbling to the floor in the process. Fortunately, Angie was quick to pull Cora over to her, attempting to straighten the child’s dress and wipe the crayon smudges off her face so she would look presentable.

“Hello, Miss Nolan,” Alyssa said quietly once she reached Emma. 

“Hello again,” Emma replied. Her heart was thumping so loudly, she was afraid everyone in the room could hear. The noise had started to pick back up, thankfully, once the curiosity at Alyssa’s presence had been assuaged.

“May I speak with you?” Alyssa asked.

“Yeah,” Emma said without hesitation. 

“In… private?” Alyssa glanced around at Emma’s group, all of whom were watching their interaction very intently. 

“Yes, of course,” Emma said, laughing bashfully. She gathered her jacket and sketchbook, then motioned for Alyssa to go ahead. “After you.” Emma glanced back at her friends’ simultaneously shocked and impressed faces, grinning and giving Nick a playful pat on the back as she followed Alyssa out. 

* * *

As they walked side by side along the first-class section of the boat deck, Alyssa couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Surprisingly, it had nothing to do with how mismatched a pair she and Emma made. Emma definitely stuck out in her comparatively rough clothes, and she drew more than a few curious glances from the people they passed talking and reading in steamer chairs.

No, Alyssa felt awkward because she had spent all morning getting up the nerve to face Emma, and now that she had sought her out, she couldn’t bring herself to say what she desperately needed to. She should have started their conversation that way, but instead, she had deflected and asked Emma to tell her about herself. And both as a stalling tactic and out of genuine curiosity, Alyssa kept prompting Emma to tell her more.

“Well, I’ve been on my own since I was about sixteen. My folks died and I’m an only child so, besides my grandma, there wasn’t really any reason for me to stick around Indiana. She encouraged me to get out and see what I could make of myself. So I lit on out of there and I haven’t been back since. We write letters pretty regular, though, and I’ll probably go visit her as soon as I can, once I’m back in the States. I guess you can just call me a tumbleweed blowin’ in the wind!” Emma laughed and rubbed nervously at the back of her neck.

Emma’s life was so fascinating to Alyssa. No, she didn’t have much in the way of personal possessions or money, but she had her freedom. And most of all, she seemed genuinely happy with her life. It was probably stupid, but Alyssa was incredibly envious.

Not to mention, Emma herself was endlessly fascinating as well. Alyssa had thought her cute at a distance the day before, and later that night she had been so distraught that Emma’s allure had mostly been a very quiet afterthought. But out in the bright sunlight with the wind whipping at her golden curls, and her hazel eyes sparkling behind her glasses, Alyssa was finding it quite difficult to focus on much else besides how beautiful Emma was.

“So, Alyssa… we’ve walked about a mile around this boat deck and chewed over how great the weather’s been and where I grew up, but I reckon that’s not why you came to talk to me, is it?”

Emma’s tone wasn’t accusatory. Instead it seemed as if she sensed Alyssa’s reticence and merely wanted to provide her an opening to say what she needed to say. Alyssa was both grateful and slightly perturbed, but she figured it was now or never.

“Miss Nolan,” Alyssa began, turning to timidly meet Emma’s eyes as they continued walking.

“Emma,” she corrected.

“Emma… I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for pulling me back, but for… for your discretion.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma said simply, as if there was nothing to it.

Alyssa suddenly felt the need to justify herself, or at least explain why she had put herself and, by chance, Emma in that situation. She could only imagine what someone in Emma’s position must think of her. She probably looked like an ungrateful, privileged bitch who was throwing a hissy fit because she didn’t get her way.

“Look, I know what you must be thinking. ‘Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?’” She glanced to the side and realized that Emma had stopped walking a few feet back. Emma’s easy-going demeanor had shifted and she was frowning and shaking her head.

“No… no, that’s not what I was thinking at all. What I was thinking was, ‘What could have happened to this girl to make her think that she had no way out?’”

The genuine, earnest way in which Emma said that, combined with the fact that those things even occurred to her at all, almost made Alyssa burst into tears. She truly could not remember the last time someone asked her how she felt in a manner that was meant to prompt an honest response. She needed to confide in someone or else she might explode, and Emma had proven herself discreet so far, in addition to quite possibly saving Alyssa’s life.

“Well, I… oh, it was everything! It was my whole world and all the people in it!” Alyssa threw her hands up in exasperation, walking over to join Emma where she was leaning against the side railing. “And the inertia of my life… just plunging ahead and me powerless to stop it.” She held her left hand out towards Emma, the gaudy engagement ring Greg had given her on full display.

“God, look at that thing!” Emma exclaimed, lightly taking Alyssa’s hand to get a better look. “You would’ve gone straight to the bottom.” She cracked a soft smile at her own joke, probably trying to make Alyssa feel more at ease. Then her eyes flicked back up to Alyssa’s, and Alyssa swore she felt Emma’s thumb brush gently across her knuckles before reluctantly letting go.

“Five hundred invitations have gone out, all of Philadelphia society will be there, and all the while I feel as if I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.”

Emma seemed to contemplate her confession a moment before she asked softly, “Do you love him?”

That question, as simple as it was, sent Alyssa’s mind reeling. What did love have to do with any of this? What place did love have in her life? Again, she tried to remember the last time someone in her life had been genuinely loving or expressed that type of sentiment. She came up short.

“Pardon me?” Alyssa asked. Surely Emma had misunderstood her situation.

“Do you love him?” Emma repeated, eyebrows raised.

“You’re being very rude. You shouldn’t be asking me this.” Alyssa was being ridiculous, she knew that. But she couldn’t let herself answer that question.

“Well, it’s a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?” 

“This is  _ not _ a suitable conversation.” Alyssa shook her head, perplexed. She and Emma may have met in unconventional circumstances, but they still barely knew each other and asking such personal questions was not appropriate where she came from.

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” Emma looked simultaneously amused and exasperated by Alyssa’s refusal to answer. It really  _ was _ that simple to her, wasn’t it?

“This is absurd!” Alyssa took a few steps away from the railing, one hand pressed to her forehead as she laughed in disbelief. “You don’t know me and I don’t know you and we are  _ not _ having this conversation at all.” 

She turned back to face Emma again, who was looking at her expectantly, a knowing smirk on her face. Even more infuriating than how smug Emma looked was how attractive Alyssa found her at that moment. She wanted to wipe that smirk off her face, but she probably needed to leave before she did something she would regret. (Like kissing that stupid smirk off Emma’s maddeningly handsome face.)

“You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous and I am leaving now.” Alyssa stuck her hand out for Emma to shake and Emma took it. “Emma… Miss Nolan, it’s been a pleasure. I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you.” 

“And you’ve insulted me.” Emma looked like she was trying to contain her mirth as Alyssa shook her hand vigorously.

“Well, you deserved it!” Alyssa was still shaking her hand.

“Right.”

“Right!”

“I thought you were leaving?” Emma snickered slightly.

“Oh, I am!” Alyssa finally let go of Emma’s hand and turned to walk away only to stop after a few steps and shoot her a look. “You are so annoying!”

“Ha!” Emma bit the inside of her cheek and nodded in acceptance of Alyssa’s assessment of her.

Alyssa shook her head in bewilderment, huffing a laugh and starting to walk away again before she realized where they were and once again stomped back to where Emma was standing.

“Wait, I don’t have to leave! This is  _ my _ part of the ship.  _ You _ leave!” Alyssa planted her feet defiantly and pointed the way back to Emma’s part of the ship.

“Oh, well, well, well! Now who’s being rude?” Emma just grinned and reached up to grab one of the support cables, leaning lazily against the side rail. 

Alyssa opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to think of an appropriate response. All of this was highly irregular. Emma was just so… so… she didn’t know what the right word was. Well, maybe she did. She could think of a few words to describe Emma. But she also knew she wasn’t supposed to think those things.

She really should have left already, but Alyssa’s common sense and her feet weren’t on speaking terms at that moment, it seemed. Instead, her mind began to grasp at ways in which to keep the interaction with Emma going. Her eyes darted down to the leatherbound item Emma had tucked into her side, and before she knew it, she was reaching out and snatching it from Emma like a child playing a game of ‘keep away.’

“What is this stupid thing you’re carrying around?” Alyssa peeked inside to see that it was a sketchbook… a well-used sketchbook, at that. “So what are you, an artist or something?” 

Alyssa glanced back up at Emma, who didn’t respond except to continue watching her with a soft smile. Emma made no move to take the book back, apparently willing to indulge Alyssa in whatever it was she was trying to do.

“Well… these are rather good,” Alyssa said faux-begrudgingly. She flipped through a few of the sketches as she walked across the pathway to sit in one of the lounge chairs. Emma followed suit. 

“They’re, uh… they’re very good, actually,” Alyssa amended. “Emma, this is exquisite work.”

Emma had quite a portfolio going of mostly portraits and a few still-lifes here and there. An old woman’s hands, a sleeping man, a mother and daughter at the ship railing. The faces in the drawings were luminous and alive. Each sketch was like an expressive little bit of humanity.

“Ah well, they didn’t think much of ‘em in ol’ Paree,” Emma said ruefully.

“Paris?” Alyssa said with surprise, to which Emma nodded. “You  _ do _ get around. For a po- I mean, for a person of limited means…”

“Nah, go ahead. A poor gal, you can say it.” Emma’s easy smile let Alyssa know that she wasn’t offended.

Continuing to flip through the pages, Alyssa suddenly came to a series of drawings of women in various states of undress. The first one featured a topless woman lying down and smoking a cigarette, her head resting on her hand. The next seemed to be a dancer in a ballet studio, standing in front of the mirror and barre and gazing off to the side. That one was fully nude.

“Well, well, well…” Alyssa breathed, pulling the front cover of the sketchbook down further as a man passed by too close for comfort. When the coast was clear, she opened it again carefully. “And these were drawn from life?”

“Well, that’s one of the good things about Paris. Lots of girls willing to take their clothes off,” Emma said breezily. She gave a playful grin and Alyssa found herself chuckling.

“You all must have been awfully close,” Alyssa surmised. She cocked an eyebrow at Emma, hoping for more of an explanation.

“Not especially,” Emma said. But she seemed to understand the specifics of what Alyssa was asking without Alyssa having to ask outright. It wasn’t something most people talked about, after all. “The first woman there… the one smoking? Her, I was quite close to. Her name was Genevieve. We were… very special friends, I guess you would say. But only when it was convenient for both of us.” Emma laughed softly and shook her head. “I caught her in a good mood there and she actually let me draw her just that once.”

Alyssa hadn’t wanted to assume, but she sort of figured by Emma’s general overall appearance and demeanor that she fancied women. She was wearing trousers with suspenders and a man’s button-up shirt, for crying out loud. And her hair, while definitely longer than most men would wear it, was still considerably shorter than most women would. It suited her, though… it suited her very well.

Emma’s confirmation of her romantic leanings sent a surge of conflicting emotions through Alyssa’s brain and body, but the majority of them manifested as a wild fluttering in her stomach. The rest of them settled in the back of her mind, shouting in a panicked but muffled voice that she was meant to quell such feelings within herself the moment they cropped up. 

She forced her eyes away from Emma’s, trying to focus again on the drawings in her lap. The next few pages were filled with multiple drawings of another woman.

“You liked this woman,” Alyssa observed in what she hoped was a casual way. “You used her several times.”

“Yeah well, she had beautiful hands, you see?” Emma indicated a separate drawing off to the side that was just of the woman’s hands. She smiled fondly and her eyes moved from the page back up to meet Alyssa’s, as if checking to see if Alyssa understood what she was going for with her work.

“I think you must have had a love affair with her, too,” Alyssa ventured. 

“No no no no no,” Emma assured her quickly, laughing. “Just with her hands. She was umm… a one-legged prostitute. Here, see?” Emma turned the page to show Alyssa a full-body sketch and, sure enough, she was not lying.

“Oh, wow!”

“Ah, she had a good sense of humor, though.” Emma’s smile was fond, as if she was recalling the memory of a lifelong friend. 

The woman in Emma’s drawing probably experienced more than her fair share of unkindness simply because of her condition and profession. But all Emma seemed to see was the beauty in her. The light of mischief in her eyes and the laugh lines around her mouth. The way Emma saw the world was beautiful and magnetic and Alyssa found herself once again envious of Emma’s position, but also deeply curious as to how Emma saw  _ her _ .

“Oh and this lady!” Emma pointed out with excitement. The next drawing was of an old lady sitting at a bar, decked out in a ludicrous amount of what was probably supposed to be fine jewelry and clothing. “She used to sit at this bar every night, wearing every piece of jewelry she owned, just waiting for her long-lost love. We called her ‘Madame Bijou.’ See how her clothes are all moth-eaten?”

“Wow,” Alyssa sighed. “You have a gift, Emma. You really do. You  _ see _ people.”

“I see you,” Emma said, watching Alyssa intently. 

There was something unnerving but also terribly exciting about Emma’s gaze. Hadn’t Alyssa just been wondering what Emma saw when she looked at her? Perhaps there was a way to playfully ask but still get an answer…

“And?” Alyssa asked expectantly, holding her chin up at a haughty angle and smirking a little.

Emma regarded her, unblinking, for several seconds before simply saying, “You wouldn’t have jumped.”

_ Oh.  _ Alyssa deflated slightly. That certainly wasn’t the answer she had been expecting. Not that she was expecting any one answer in particular.

“I mean, I’ve unfortunately come across a lot of desperate people in my life who have felt the way you were feeling last night, and while I’m sure your situation’s no picnic with ol’ What’s His Name, there’s still so much… I don’t know,  _ fight, _ in you. You’re too damn stubborn to have jumped.” Emma shrugged.

“Hmm… alright.” Alyssa nodded in acceptance, a slow smile forming. Emma thought she was a fighter. Alyssa had to admit that she rather liked that label for herself. She just hoped she could live up to it.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon when it occurred to Emma that she and Alyssa had just been out walking and talking for hours. It didn’t matter the subject, from her art to who  _ exactly  _ Greg Hockley was, they had yet to tire of each other’s company, and Emma was considering herself  _ extremely  _ lucky. 

Judging by the countless looks of confusion and even annoyance she’d encountered from other first-class passengers throughout the day, she assumed this wasn’t a typical occurrence--some steerage rat getting brought up to mingle with the world’s elite. But she couldn’t bring herself to be bothered by any of that. Not with Alyssa smiling at her like she was the most interesting, important person in the world.

“So, how is it that a gem like you got saddled with a stiff like that?” It was a question that had been lingering in Emma’s mind since the night before. The more she got to know Alyssa, the more it was eating away at her. Alyssa was so vivacious and daring. Her being with Greg Hockley made absolutely no sense.

Alyssa bit her lip as if considering her words carefully. “His family has known mine for a long time. Daddy--my father--he had some business dealings with the Hockleys before… well, before he had some  _ bad  _ business dealings.” She sighed deeply. “My mother and I met him by chance in Paris when we were setting some affairs in order, and things just sort of happened from there.”

It sounded to Emma that  _ Alyssa  _ was the business dealings this time. “And you’re  _ how _ old?” she asked.

Alyssa blushed and looked down at the deck for a moment before straightening up, her shoulders square. “Not that you’re supposed to ask a lady such a thing, but I’m seventeen,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster with an answer like that.

Emma let out a long, low whistle. “Practically an old maid. No wonder your mom’s trying to seal the deal.”

Alyssa gasped, playfully offended as she lightly smacked at Emma’s shoulder. “I beg your pardon, Miss Nolan, but I do recall you saying you’re about to turn twenty. So if I’m an old maid, then what, pray tell, does that make you?”

“An eligible bachelorette on the prowl.” Emma raised her eyebrows suggestively and leaned in towards Alyssa a little, which earned her a giggle. Emma decided right then and there that she would gladly make a fool of herself in whatever way necessary if it meant she got to hear that sound again.

“Well, what did such an eligible bachelorette do before she made her way to Paris? You said you left Indiana, and you’ve told me about Paris and London. But what happened in the interim?”

“Ah well, before Paris, I was in New York for a while. Before that, I had spent the summer in Los Angeles working at the pier in Santa Monica doing portraits for ten cents apiece.”

Alyssa sighed wistfully, looking out at the dusk sky painted across the horizon. “Why can’t I be like you, Emma? Just… head out for an adventure whenever I feel like it?” She turned to look at Emma then, her playful smile back. “Say we’ll go there sometime, to that pier… even if we only ever just talk about it.”

“No, we’ll do it.” Emma sounded so sure of herself when, deep down inside, she could hardly believe her own nerve. “We’ll drink cheap beer and ride on the rollercoaster until we throw up. Then we’ll ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. But you’ll have to do it like a real cowgirl; none of that side-saddle stuff.” 

“You mean, one leg on each side? Scandalous! Can you teach me?” Alyssa looked both terrified and thrilled at the prospect.

“Sure, if you’d like.” Emma barely knew this girl and already she didn’t think she could bear to say no to Alyssa as long as it was within her power to grant her wishes. Then Alyssa was positively beaming at her, and that confirmed it. Emma was a goner.

“I think I would,” Alyssa said almost dreamily.

Before Emma could really think about what she was doing, she was reaching out to gently take Alyssa’s hand in her own. “I guess you’ll have to get in touch with me back in the States.”

Alyssa appeared quite agreeable to that, but then she saw something over Emma’s shoulder and her demeanor shifted entirely as she blanched and dropped Emma’s hand like dead weight. “Mother!” she said, her voice rising several octaves and her face contorting into the fakest smile Emma had ever seen in her life.

Emma turned around to see a group of older first-class ladies (and one impeccably-dressed gentleman) approaching them, led by a redheaded woman whose cold eyes had already settled on Emma. That was  _ definitely  _ Alyssa’s mother, and the way she looked at Emma almost made her want to crawl into the nearest hole and hide.

The group was looking at the two of them expectantly, but it took Alyssa a couple of seconds to jump in with the introductions. She had become a ball of nervous energy in a matter of seconds.

“Everyone, may I introduce Emma Nolan.” Alyssa gestured to Emma, who debated on whether to try to awkwardly bow or curtsy, but instead just nodded and waved as politely as possible.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Veronica Greene said, voice dry and expression unchanging.

Everyone else in the group smiled and greeted Emma cordially as Alyssa continued with the introductions and filled them in on who Emma was and what she had done the night before.

“Well, Emma, it sounds like you’re a good woman to have around in a sticky situation,” said a lady whom Alyssa had introduced as Dee Dee.

Just then, a loud bugle sounded, and the fancy-looking gentleman who was with them (Barry something?) rolled his eyes and scoffed loudly. “Why do they always insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?” Alyssa and Dee Dee snorted with laughter at his dramatic flair, while the rest of the group seemed unamused.

“Shall we go dress, Mother?” Alyssa took her mother’s arm and began to pull her in the direction of the first-class cabins, but Veronica remained unmoving and still staring at Emma for a few seconds before letting herself be led away. Alyssa glanced back over her shoulder and shot Emma a smile while calling out, “See you at dinner, Em!” 

_ Em… she called me ‘Em,’  _ Emma thought with a wistful sigh, waving and watching Alyssa leave for way longer than was strictly necessary. The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat brought Emma back to her senses. She turned to see Barry still standing there, a knowing smile on his face.

“Honey, do you have even the slightest comprehension of what you’re doing?” He arched an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms and giving her a very thorough once-over.

“Not really,” Emma admitted sheepishly, but still with a smile because she was going to get to see Alyssa again soon.

“Well, you’re about to enter the snakepit, and those vipers are vicious.” Barry made a dismissive hand motion in the direction the ladies had left. “I hope you’re ready. What are you planning to wear?”

Emma looked down at her clothes, her heart sinking to her feet as she realized she was currently wearing the nicest outfit she owned and she still looked incredibly shabby compared to even the most dressed-down first-class individuals. She had been so caught up in the excitement of knowing Alyssa that she hadn’t even thought about what she would wear to the fancy dinner. Barry seemed to read that loud and clear.

“I figured,” he said, stepping closer and putting a protective arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Uncle Barry’s here to help. I have several suits of different sizes back in my suite.” He looked around to make sure no one was too close and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “And some dresses, too. But you don’t really seem the dress-wearing type.”

Emma laughed and let him lead her in the direction of where he was staying. She already liked him, and she could definitely use another ally at the dinner table if the vibes she got from the rest of the first-class people were any indication. Plus, Barry was quite obviously  _ very _ homosexual, which automatically bonded them together. If he could make it in this crowd, maybe she could, too. At least, for Alyssa, she was willing to try.

* * *

* * *

_ The others were gracious and curious about the woman who had saved my life. But my mother looked at Emma as if she were an insect. A dangerous insect, which needed to be squashed immediately. _

“Wow, talk about ungrateful,” Billy mutters.

“What, Veronica?” Jennifer asks, not even looking away from the game.

“Yeah. This person saves your daughter’s life, and you don’t even thank her and you treat her like a leper? What the fuck?!”

“Yeah great-great-grandmama Veronica wasn’t necessarily the greatest judge of character, though. I mean, she’s the one who pushed Greg on Alyssa in the first place, so…” 

“Don’t know why  _ she  _ didn’t just marry the guy if she thought he was such a catch,” Billy mutters to himself, realizing he’s perhaps getting far too invested in the lives and motivations of these people he has not and will never meet.

“Probably had something to do with the societal expectations of women at the time to be able to provide their husbands with children,” Jennifer says with more than a little bitterness in her voice. “Alyssa was the only child Veronica was ever able to conceive, and she was also very near the end of childbearing years, anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But even so, she was practically closer in age to Greg than Alyssa was.” Billy sighs and takes a long swig from his beer.

“It’s good to see you actually understand somewhat.” Jennifer was smiling at him again. “Maybe you aren’t a  _ total _ lost cause, Bill.”

“Gee, thanks,” he says in what he hopes is a dry tone, but he has to admit he feels a little bit of pride at the fact that maybe Jennifer doesn’t  _ totally _ hate his guts. He clears his throat and moves to pick up the book again before pausing. “So, if what’s in here is accurate, then Alyssa had to have lived to be at least 100-”

“101, actually,” Jennifer interjects.

“Right. So, does that mean that you actually met her?” The nature of Billy’s work has generally never involved a whole lot of interactions with the people involved, especially not in his time diving for Spanish gold, so the idea that he could be sitting with the real-life great-granddaughter of  _ The  _ Alyssa Greene is getting more and more exciting with every page he reads. 

How much does she  _ really  _ know?

“I did,” Jennifer says, her expression unreadable. “But we can talk about that after you’ve finished that. There’s more you need to learn before I tell you what else I know.”

Billy groans. This woman is a tease and it’s going to kill him. With that simultaneously morbid and exciting thought, he resumes his reading just as Jennifer orders them another round of drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hoped you enjoyed the update! As always, come scream with/at us in the comments!


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, yes we are taking creative liberties with the timeline here. We noticed while studying the script for the movie that James Cameron basically skipped an entire day, so we figured why not have a whole other day of original Greenelan content to play around with? Everything from the movie will be here, but things may be shifted around slightly as we adjust the timeline accordingly. Anyways, we hope you enjoy! This chapter is a doozy!

Emma didn’t think that the Manhattan Macy’s had quite as many clothes as there were in Barry’s closet. He hadn’t even been kidding about having dresses in there. Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to know _ why _ he had them, although she supposed it was probably quite entertaining, whatever the reason. But he also had several suits in a variety of sizes, which Emma _ did _ ask about.

“Oh I keep these as inspiration for me to reach my goal weight!” Barry informed her as he playfully swatted her hands away to finish tying her bowtie himself. Emma relented, albeit with a little bit of a pout. “Don’t feel bad about it. I’ve dated men whose wives still have to do this for them after twenty years of marriage.”

Emma choked and it had nothing to do with the tie being too tight. Barry just looked at her as if he was daring her to say something, but Emma bit her lip. It did absolutely nothing to mask the amused grin on her face, though.

“I don’t know what there is to be shy about here. I’m quite obvious to even the daftest individuals, and the first time I saw you, you looked like you were in the process of trying to corrupt the young Miss Greene with your wicked womanly wiles.”

“My _ what? _ !” Emma sputtered, feigning innocence only briefly before rolling her eyes and smiling sheepishly. “Whatever. It’s not like it’s going anywhere. Besides the fact that she’s most likely… not that way inclined… she is an _ engaged _first-class girl and I’m… well, I’m having to borrow a suit from you, so what does that say?”

“That you’re damned lucky I have such great taste,” Barry said as he finished the tie with a flourish. He stepped back for a second to inspect his work before reaching over to grab the suit jacket off the bed, which he then helped Emma shrug into. “And that you have such great shoulders. Or else this suit wouldn’t look nearly as fabulous on you as it does.”

“Wow,” Emma sighed happily as she studied her reflection in the mirror.

“See? You shine up like a new penny!” Barry said proudly, holding his hands together in front of his mouth. “And as for Alyssa… well, I don’t think you would even need this suit to impress her. I saw the way she was looking at you on the deck. She can hardly stomach looking in the same direction as that fiance of hers, and there’s clearly some strange tension between her and her shrew of a mother. What I’m saying is, don’t count yourself out just yet, girly. You may be just the lady-knight in shining armor she’s been waiting for!”

“More like ‘knight in snazzy tux.’ But okay...” Emma took a deep breath, straightening the jacket and holding her head up high. “Time to attend a ball as the princess’ honored guest!”

* * *

Alyssa didn’t know why her mother and Greg insisted on them all walking to dinner together when the two of them just strolled ahead of Alyssa arm-in-arm, regardless, wrapped up in their own conversation. She refused to let them turn her mood sour, though, because Emma was joining them for dinner and that meant she would have a real friend to talk to. Finally someone interesting and real… Emma was a breath of fresh air that Alyssa desperately needed.

She had taken extra care in choosing her dress, though for whose benefit she wouldn’t dare say aloud. It was floor-length and form-fitting, black and red with sequins across the bodice, which was cut in a square neck style with short sleeves to show off her neck and shoulders. Her arms were sheathed in white gloves that came almost up to her elbows, and her hair was done up in a carefully styled chignon. 

She trailed several paces behind Greg and Veronica as they approached the grand staircase to head down to dinner. Just as she made it to the ornamental clock on the upper landing, she glanced down to see her mother and odious excuse for a fiance breeze right past an individual who was clearly going to attempt to greet them. The person didn’t seem to be too disappointed, though, as they immediately turned to begin walking the other way and - _ oh! _

That person was none other than Emma Nolan, looking positively dashing in a sharp new tuxedo, complete with a white bowtie and fancy coattails. Her hair had been moderately tamed but left natural enough so that her face was still framed by perfectly tousled waves. Alyssa’s breath caught in her throat at the sight, and because Emma’s eyes met hers just as she was in the process of turning.

Suddenly self-conscious that she had just been standing there like a fool for several seconds, Alyssa attempted to gather her thoughts and descended the final part of the staircase, coming to a stop a few steps above where Emma was standing and doing her best to imitate the stance of some of the gentlemen around them. With her chin up and a hand behind her back, she seemed to be trying her hardest not to giggle. And yet she still somehow managed to not appear _ completely _out of place.

Emma bowed slightly and took Alyssa’s gloved hand in one of her own, bringing it up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of Alyssa’s fingers. Her eyes were alight with mischief as they locked and held with Alyssa’s.

“I saw that in a nickelodeon once and always wanted to do it,” Emma admitted with a giddy smile. “You look… stunning.”

Alyssa could feel herself blushing and couldn’t fight the girlish laughter that bubbled up at Emma’s antics and admiration. It felt completely natural to take Emma’s arm when she offered it and they began to walk over in the direction of where Greg and Veronica were chatting up one of the countesses. 

“Darling,” Alyssa said stiltedly, touching Greg’s arm to get his attention. “Surely you remember Miss Nolan?” 

Greg looked completely caught off guard as he turned and identified Alyssa’s companion. “Nolan?! I didn’t recognize you. Amazing… you could almost pass for a gentleman!”

Emma’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly before forcing a smile. “Almost.”

“Extraordinary,” Greg muttered offhandedly. Then he was turning to offer Veronica his arm, who took it and thankfully let him lead her away from where she had been glaring daggers at Emma during their entire interaction.

Alyssa’s face felt warm as she watched the two of them go, her grip on Emma’s arm tightening ever so slightly. She could guess what her mother was thinking. Veronica wasn’t ignorant of Alyssa’s predilections and she had made sure Alyssa was aware of her disapproval whenever she deemed it necessary over the years.

Admittedly, Alyssa knew that were Emma a man, everyone else would without a doubt be thinking what her mother was thinking, too. A charming, penniless artist showing up to rescue the poor, distraught rich girl soon after her engagement, and suddenly the two are inseparable? Quite the scandal! 

It certainly didn’t seem that Veronica would be going to any great lengths to hide her disdain for the situation (or Emma) either. Which was shocking only in that it could have been taken as rude, and perhaps even a little suspicious, by some of the more perceptive members of her clique. Especially since Emma had saved Alyssa’s life. 

As for Greg, well, Alyssa wasn’t too surprised by him.

“I’m sorry,” she said while continuing to put on a good face for the people who passed by the two of them like some kind of vaudevillian ventriloquist.

“You don’t have to apologize for them,” Emma reassured her, covering one of Alyssa’s hands with her free one as they began to descend even more stairs to the grand dining saloon. 

As they reached the bottom of the landing, Barry and Dee Dee approached, laughing amongst themselves. Barry stopped to give Emma a gentle pat of encouragement on the shoulder.

“Nothing to it, honey. Remember, the only thing they respect is money. So just act like your family owns a gold mine, and you’re in the club,” he said with a wink, then he was continuing on with Dee Dee.

Alyssa took a deep, steadying breath as she surveyed the swirling throng of elegant people before them. She had long since stopped caring what those people thought of her, but for some reason, she couldn’t stand the thought of any of them treating Emma with anything other than respect and kindness. 

Steeling herself, she tugged Emma’s arm and guided her forward, following in the path of their dinner companions. Very quickly, Alyssa began pointing out several notable people who were milling about. 

“Do you see that couple speaking to Greg and my mother? That’s Sir Cosmo and Lucille, Lady Duff-Gordon.” The lady in question chose that moment to glance over at Alyssa and daintily wave. Alyssa smiled politely and waved back before turning to say more quietly to Emma, “She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals.”

Emma’s face immediately flushed pink. “And you know this because?”

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow, teeth gently worrying her lower lip. “These people love to gossip. Also… I may have received an engagement gift from her already.”

Several emotions passed over Emma’s face in an instant, then she was clearing her throat and directing her gaze elsewhere. When she spoke again, her voice seemed a bit strained. “Who… umm… who else should I know?”

“Well… oh! Right there’s John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His wife Madeleine is my age, which caused a bit of a stir, but they seem quite content. She’s also currently in a very… delicate condition. See how she’s trying to hide it?” Alyssa gestured discreetly to the fan Madeleine had open and blocking her stomach. They passed right by the couple as they reached the ornate double doors to the dining saloon. 

“J.J., Madeleine, so nice to see you again. I’d like you to meet Emma Nolan.” Alyssa introduced J.J. and Emma first before leaning in to exchange quick pecks on the cheek with Madeleine.

“Good to meet you, Emma,” J.J. said as he shook Emma’s hand. “Are you of the Boston Nolans?”

To Emma’s credit, she didn’t miss a beat. She raised her chin a couple of inches and pitched her voice so as to sound more aristocratic and replied, “No sir, the Edgewater Nolans, actually.”

Alyssa had to stifle a laugh as J.J. nodded politely as if he knew exactly what Emma was talking about, but then looked thoroughly puzzled. Madeleine tugged Alyssa aside briefly, lifting her fan to give them a moment of privacy as they spoke.

“Could you _ be _any more obvious, Alyssa?” Madeleine hissed, although her eyes were more amused than accusatory. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Alyssa attempted to appear demure, but one knowing look from Madeleine had her snorting quietly as she broke into a grin.

Alyssa had fancied Madeleine for a time when they were younger, though Alyssa didn’t think Madeleine ever knew. At least not about Alyssa’s feelings for _ her. _ But Madeleine had always been clever, and mentioned once in private that Alyssa seemed to enjoy “kissing practice” more than most of their group growing up. It never seemed to bother her or affect their friendship, at least, for which Alyssa was grateful.

“Just be careful,” Madeleine cautioned. “We both know how your mother can be.”

Alyssa sighed and nodded in agreement, but then she looked over to see Emma still putting on airs while listening to something J.J. was saying and she was on the verge of giggling again.

“Shall we head to the table?” Madeleine suggested to all of them.

“Of course, dear,” J.J. placed a protective arm around his wife and began leading her and the group in.

Emma offered Alyssa her arm again as well, which Alyssa happily took. As they walked, different pieces of conversations flowed around them and a small orchestra played a lovely melody. The chandeliers overhead lit the entire room like a constellation of stars. Alyssa hung back from their table a little with Emma, knowing they would be seated several places apart and not wanting to leave her side just yet.

While they were waiting, she felt Emma stiffen slightly. Alyssa glanced up to see Emma’s jaw was set and she was looking in the direction of Greg and several of his male counterparts. They were all very obviously admiring Alyssa as if she were some type of prize to be won, and Greg was the winner. A few of them also appeared to be sneering in Emma’s direction.

“Ignore them,” Alyssa whispered, squeezing Emma’s arm reassuringly. “They’re inconsequential idiots.”

Emma relaxed immediately, smiling sheepishly at Alyssa. “Sorry. They’re just so… gross. And they don’t even try to hide it.”

Alyssa sighed and absentmindedly rubbed her hand up and down Emma’s upper arm a couple of times soothingly. Then she noticed everyone was taking their seats and reluctantly removed herself from Emma’s side.

“I have to go sit by Greg. I believe Barry is trying to get your attention. There’s a seat open beside him.”

A brief look of what Alyssa thought might be disappointment flickered across Emma’s face before she was nodding and approaching Barry, who was thankfully seated not too far around the table from Alyssa. At least she would be able to see Emma and possibly engage her in conversation throughout the meal.

* * *

_ She must have been nervous, but she never faltered. They assumed she was one of them… new money, obviously, but still a member of the club. Probably of a similar “type” to Barry. Mother, of course, could always be counted upon… _

“Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Miss Nolan. I hear they’re quite good on this ship,” Veronica said from her place on the other side of Greg.

Emma was caught off-guard by the question, due in equal part to its subject matter and the fact that it was the first time tonight that Alyssa’s mother had directly spoken to her. “The best I’ve seen, Ma’am. Hardly any rats,” she said, putting on a good face as a few startled ones cropped up around the table, as well as several chuckles--especially from Madeleine Astor, who’d been seated to her left.

Alyssa managed to catch Emma’s eye at that moment, and she was surreptitiously motioning for her to take the napkin off of her plate and put it in her lap. Emma did so quickly and made sure to sit up straight while she was at it.

“Miss Nolan is joining us from third-class. She was of some assistance to my fiancee last night,” Greg said, as if to make it clear that Emma wasn’t one of them, but also that he was generous enough to invite her.

“It turns out that Miss Nolan is quite a fine artist,” Alyssa interjected, shooting Emma a smile that was almost shy in comparison to how proudly she made the statement. “She was kind enough to show me some of her work today.”

“Alyssa and I differ somewhat in our definition of ‘fine art.’ Not to impugn your work, Miss Nolan,” Greg said as he accepted a liberal amount of champagne.

Emma shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, assuring him she wasn’t offended. She truly couldn’t care less what he thought about her work if she tried. Just then, a waiter leaned over her shoulder with a spoon at the ready to place something on her plate.

“How do you take your caviar, ma’am?” he asked.

“No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much.” Emma thought she kept a decent poker-face as she once again met Alyssa’s eyes across the table, who smiled in what Emma guessed was appreciation of her ability to play along.

Shortly after, the salad was brought out and Emma had a momentary panic attack when she took in the array of plates and utensils before her. Barry seemed to notice her reservations at picking anything up and leaned in to help.

“Start from the outside and work your way in,” he muttered, to which Emma whispered her thanks.

“Where exactly do you live, Miss Nolan?” Alyssa’s mother brought the conversation back to her yet again, and Emma found herself trying not to squirm uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny.

“Well um, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I’m on God’s good humor.”

“And how is it that you have means to travel?”

“Oh, I work my way from place to place. But I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand of poker.” She couldn’t help but steal another glance at Alyssa then. “A very lucky hand.”

“And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?” Veronica looked as if she were barely suppressing the urge to shudder in disgust. Meanwhile, Emma could see Alyssa stiffen and frown in her mother’s direction while Barry raised his eyebrows in disbelief at her rudeness.

“Why, yes ma’am, I do,” Emma began to explain, taking in a deep, calming breath. “It’s a big world and I want to see it all before I go. My grandpa was always talking about going to see the ocean, but he died in the same town he was born in and never got to see it. You can’t wait around, ‘cause you never know what hand you’re gonna get dealt next. I figure life’s a gift and I don’t intend on wasting it. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count.”

“Well said, Emma!” Barry cheered, slapping a hand down on the table and raising a glass in salute. 

“Here, here!” said another gentleman seated down the table from her, raising his glass, too.

“To making it count,” Alyssa said with a fond smile, prompting them all to join in on a toast, though Greg did so begrudgingly and Veronica not at all.

Emma felt herself flush with pride at having done something right where Alyssa was concerned, and she smiled back at her as brightly as she dared. The rest of dinner -- all ten courses of it -- was a blur to Emma. The majority of the conversations were about things which were completely out of her wheelhouse, and the only reason she had agreed to come was Alyssa, who was seated just far enough away to make keeping up a constant conversation with her difficult. At least, it was with Greg sat right beside her and Veronica watching like a hawk.

She didn’t know if she would ever see Alyssa again after that night, and she desperately wanted to take her own life advice and make it count. So after dessert had been served, Emma leaned over to ask Madeleine if she had an ink pen and slip of paper in her purse that she could borrow. As luck would have it, she did, and Emma hastily scribbled a note before returning the pen and thanking her.

“Next it will be brandies in the Smoking Room,” Alyssa murmured lowly, an amused smirk on her face as a waiter brought cigars around to each of the gentlemen.

“Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?” Ismay said, as if on cue.

“Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe,” Alyssa continued, to which Emma and Madeleine both laughed.

“Shall I walk you back to the room before I join the rest of the men, sweetpea?” Greg asked Alyssa as he stood.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll stay here a bit longer.”

“Right, then.” He pushed in his chair and started to take his leave before turning back to give Emma a curt nod. “Good of you to come, Nolan.”

All of the gentlemen left except for Barry, which honestly wasn’t much of a surprise, nor did it seem to bother him. Emma rose from her seat as well, making her way around to where Alyssa was sitting.

“I should probably be getting back,” Emma said.  
“Emma, must you go?” The disappointment in Alyssa’s voice made Emma both sad and hopeful.

“Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin, I’m afraid.” Emma took Alyssa’s hand, carefully slipping her the folded piece of paper in the process, and bowed down to press a kiss to the back of Alyssa’s fingers much like she had earlier. “Goodnight, Alyssa.”

Emma could feel Alyssa’s mother glare at her back as she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the grand staircase, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. She smiled to herself as she went, knowing full well that there was always a chance of being turned down, but feeling deep down that that would not happen.

* * *

_ ‘Make it count. Meet me at the clock. -E’ _

Alyssa held the note under the table and read it again for the tenth time in as many minutes. When she looked back up at the others who still remained at the table, engaging in some mindless conversation about china patterns or the like, she caught the eye of Madeleine, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed, as if to say, ‘Alyssa Greene, you little minx, what are you up to?’

“I actually think I’ll head off to bed. I’m suddenly feeling so tired…” she said, getting up from the table.

“You just told Greg you wished to stay a bit longer…” Veronica said with suspicion. 

“And so I have. It’s been over fifteen minutes. Now I think I will retire and perhaps do some pondering over possible honeymoon locations.” Alyssa gave her mother an almost painfully sweet smile, and Veronica looked torn between skepticism and mollification.

“May I suggest Egypt? J.J. and I had _ quite _the time there,” Madeleine said and smiled cheekily as her hand settled on her midsection and Barry burst into laughter.

“Oh, I _ adore _ you, dear.” Dee Dee Allen was wiping tears from her eyes.

“Yes, isn’t she just _ so _ adorable?” Alyssa shot Madeleine a playful glare before officially excusing herself from the table and heading towards the stairs.

Once she reached the A-deck foyer, Alyssa was able to see Emma on the landing above. She had her back to Alyssa and appeared to be studying the very clock she’d mentioned in her note. Taking a moment to calm her nerves, Alyssa started up the remaining stairs to Emma. Just as she got to the top, Emma turned and smiled at her. Her entire body looked like it released some sort of tension as their eyes met.

_ She thought I wouldn’t come. _ Alyssa thought, returning Emma’s relieved smile with an eager one of her own.   
“So, you wanna go to a _ real _ party?” Emma asked, smile turning mischievous. She offered Alyssa her hand and, despite the voice in the back of her head screaming reasons to decline, Alyssa placed both her hand and her trust in Emma’s.

Third-class was as different from first-class at nightfall as it had been earlier in the day. Alyssa could hear the loud music emanating from the common room long before she and Emma reached their destination. Inside, an impromptu band was gathered around the piano and people were dancing and laughing, shouting and drinking… even brawling occasionally. It was _ definitely _a “real” party, by anyone’s estimation.

Alyssa didn’t dare let go of Emma’s hand as she pushed their way through the boisterous crowd, craning her neck every so often to be sure of where they were going. After a few minutes, Emma came to a stop at one of the tables situated a short distance off to the side of the raised platform serving as a stage in the center of the room. Sitting at that table were the three young men whom Alyssa had seen with Emma earlier that day when she sought her out, and… Kaylee and Shelby?

Kaylee noticed her first, choking on her drink and receiving a few hard pats on the back from the young man she seemed to have gotten cozy with.

“Miss Greene?” Shelby put down her own half-empty glass of very dark beer and looked around as if expecting Veronica and Greg to appear at any moment. “What… what are you doing here?” she asked just loud enough to be heard over the band.

“I’m here for the party, girls, same as you,” Alyssa said as she reached for one of the unclaimed pints of stout on the table. “And please call me Alyssa.” She smiled and took a generous swig of the beer, and both Kaylee and Shelby seemed to relax substantially.

“Well, if your mother asks, we never saw you down here,” Kaylee said, finally catching her breath from her coughing fit.

“I was counting on that, actually.”

Emma chose that moment to pointedly clear her throat. “So… clearly most of us here know each other in some way or another, but for those of you who are unacquainted…” She motioned to the tall, friendly-looking fellow next to Shelby. “This is Kevin, my best friend and bunkmate here on the ship. He got the second ticket when I kicked ass at poker.”

“I still wanna know what y’all did to Sven and Olaf!” Kaylee’s ‘friend’ said, and Alyssa thought he was playing around, though she couldn’t be sure.

“And _ this _ charming fellow right here is Nick, who shares mine and Kevin’s quarters, along with Jules.” Emma finished up by sweeping her arm towards an exceptionally tall, dark-skinned man who was barely paying attention to them. He seemed to be trying to converse with a pretty blonde girl, but there was a very obvious language barrier, even at a cursory glance.

“Nice to meet all of you,” Alyssa said, waving a bit self-consciously. “Like I said, I’m Alyssa.”

Just then, a tall blonde woman, older than the rest of them but still strikingly beautiful, approached the table, a little miniature version of her in tow, skipping along and bobbing her head to the music. Upon further inspection, Alyssa thought she’d seen a drawing of them in Emma’s sketchbook.

“I hate to interrupt,” the woman began, picking up the little girl and holding her against her hip, “But Emma, could you maybe keep an eye on her for just a little bit while I run to the telegram office? I need to get a message off to my husband before they close for the night.”

“It’s no problem, Angie,” Emma said, shrugging out of her jacket and putting it on the back of a chair before taking a seat at the table and motioning for Angie to hand the little girl off to sit in her lap.

“You’re a real angel,” the woman--Angie--said, giving a lipstick-smudge kiss to Emma’s forehead before making her way back through the crowd.  
  
Alyssa watched her go before she sat down next to Emma and the little girl, who was making quick work of wiping the smudge off Emma’s forehead with her sleeve. “Emma, I don’t believe you’ve introduced me to your friend,” she said, smiling at the girl, who blushed bashfully at being addressed like a grown-up.

“Of course. This is my good friend, Cora. She and her mother are just traveling home from a trip to _ England,” _Emma gave great emphasis to this as Cora smiled proudly at the grandness of her adventure. “Cora, this is my new friend, Alyssa. She’s actually on the ship with her mama, too.”

“You’re dressed _ fancy.” _ Cora marveled at the sequins on Alyssa’s dress, then her eyes went wide with realization and she gasped dramatically. “Are you a _ princess?” _she stage-whispered.

Alyssa laughed, both because this girl was too adorable for words and because she had a very real answer to that question in her back pocket. “I’m not,” she said, shaking her head and earning a look of pure disappointment from Cora.

“Oh,” she said simply, dejected, while Emma was clearly trying her hardest not to giggle.

“_ But _my grandmother was a princess, so I think that makes me part-princess?” Alyssa added in a more hushed tone as she leaned in, as if this were some great secret, but she was fairly certain everyone on the ship knew that (or some version of it) at this point.

Cora just stared wide-eyed at her, speechless as Emma reached over to get her own drink. The music faded out for a few seconds and everyone applauded while the band nursed their drinks before launching into another song. It was a jaunty Irish number and the energy in the room seemed to increase even further as more people got up to dance. Cora wiggled happily in Emma’s lap, hands clapping in time with the drums.

“Would you care to dance, Miss?” Emma asked Cora, offering the child her hand and adopting an overly dramatic, dapper flair.

Cora couldn’t contain her giggles at first, but very quickly tried to play the part of a composed little lady as she took Emma’s hand and hopped down from her lap, tugging her towards the platform.

“I’ll be right back!” Emma called out with a laugh as she let herself be dragged up onto the makeshift stage where a number of other people were dancing already.

Alyssa watched, hopelessly enamored, as Emma helped Cora to stand on her feet while Emma moved to the steps of the dance. Alyssa sighed heavily, resting her cheek in her hand and her elbow on the table. She was pulled from her wistful staring by someone loudly sliding a glass across the table so that it stopped against her elbow, almost toppling over. Straightening up, she saw that it was Kevin, and he was giving her a knowing look.

“Figured you could use that,” he said simply.

“Um, yeah, thanks,” Alyssa muttered with what she hoped passed as a casual smile. Then she was gulping down the majority of the Guinness without even tasting it. (Which was probably a good thing, if she was being honest.)

“You like her?” Kevin asked after enough time had passed that Alyssa thought he wasn’t going to say anything else. She turned to fully study him then, and he looked quite serious for someone who just radiated approachability. 

“Emma? Why yes, of course. She’s a very… likeable person,” Alyssa said carefully. These people were Emma’s friends, so Alyssa assumed they knew and accepted her completely, but Kaylee and Shelby were also there, as well as dozens of other folks who could hear them.

“The world’s full of ‘likeable’ people. I’m talkin’ about somethin’ different, and you know it.” Kevin’s eyes looked like they could see right through her, and Alyssa had to fight the urge to shrink away or bolt. “I reckon you’re a good person, mainly ‘cause Emma doesn’t usually hang around people who aren’t. But you’re also really pretty, which tends to make Emma’s judgment about the first thing go all... “ He made a motion with his hand to indicate something along the lines of ‘topsy-turvy.’ 

“Anyways,” he continued, “Emma’s not some pony you can ride until you get bored with her and go running back to your cushy life.” His choice of words made Alyssa choke on her drink, and he paused as she wheezed and tried to regain her breath. “She’s the greatest friend I’ve ever had, and anyone would be damn lucky to be the one on her arm. So don’t hurt her, alright?”

Alyssa sat there slack-jawed for a moment, completely taken aback by Kevin’s declaration. She had to admit, she wasn’t used to being talked to in this manner. Her mother and Greg were callous and dismissive constantly, but this was different. Kevin wasn’t being rude to her; rather, he was being a true friend and extremely forthright. Alyssa found, unexpectedly so, that she appreciated and respected Kevin’s candor and loyalty.

“I swear, hurting Emma is the last thing I would ever want to do,” Alyssa said honestly. “She’s very fortunate to have such good friends to look after her.”

Kevin nodded, apparently satisfied enough with her answer--or at least he knew that no matter what he said, it wouldn’t make a lick of difference in the end--and returned his attention to Shelby, who was beckoning him to the dance floor.

As they were taking their leave, Angie returned, easily weaving her way through the crowd with the utmost grace. She looked momentarily confused when she didn’t immediately see Emma and Cora where she left them at the table, but then an excited squeal sounded from the platform and both she and Alyssa turned to see Emma lifting Cora up and swinging her around in a circle.

“She’s precious,” Alyssa told Angie when she finished making her way over.

“Which one?” Angie asked, cocking an eyebrow. She laughed and lightly touched Alyssa’s arm when Alyssa sputtered, trying to come up with a response. Then she was walking up to the stage to fetch her child from a smiling and breathless Emma.

Alyssa bit her lip, contemplating her next move a moment before she was up and walking towards Emma. “Care to show me a few steps?” she asked, offering out her hand.

Emma smiled devilishly and took Alyssa’s hand while her left settled on the small of her back, sending shivers up Alyssa’s spine. “We’re gonna have to get a little bit closer,” she said, accentuating the statement by pulling Alyssa in until their bodies were flush against each other and Alyssa could barely contain a gasp. “Like this.”

Alyssa moved her hand up to rest on Emma’s shoulder as if they were about to waltz, and she tried not to notice the surprising amount of muscle definition.

She failed miserably.

The music kicked up into a faster tempo and suddenly they were off, Emma leading her through a series of sideways skips and spins that made absolutely no sense but were exhilarating and freeing. Alyssa laughed gleefully as they twirled their way around the stage, somehow managing not to crash into other couples in the process. 

They passed a very handsy Kevin and Shelby, who were apparently too giddy to care about ‘public decency.’ At a particularly fast-paced part of the song, some people took to the center of the stage to drunkenly show off their attempts at Irish step or some kind of improvised tap dance. 

Everyone cleared off the second Angie stepped up, though. Emma ushered Alyssa off to the side, leaning in so she could be heard over the chaos. “Oh you’re gonna love this! She’s a dancer in New York! People normally have to pay to see her perform!” 

Emma gave a cheer for Angie and clapped along with the music as the woman suddenly transformed into a whirling dervish of graceful spins, kicks, and footwork. Every move she made was fluid, completely deliberate but also effortless, and there wasn’t a single part of her body that was out of sync. 

Alyssa was transfixed. 

“She’s amazing, right?” Emma asked, her eyes not leaving Angie.

“She’s who I wanted to be when I grew up,” Alyssa said wistfully.

“Well… you’re not quite grown yet.” With that, Emma was pulling Alyssa back up on stage, ignoring her sounds of half-hearted protest. “Hey Angie, you’ve got a new protege!”

“Have I now?” Angie laughed and did a few dramatic flourishes with her arms and hands in the air. “Well, does she have the Zazz?”

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure Alyssa here’s got it!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Alyssa was waving her hands in front of her, trying to brush off the attention.

“No, no, not so fast. Come on, let’s see what you’ve got. You look fit. You ever done any dancing?” Angie circled her, looking her up and down carefully.

“Um, yes. Several years of ballet. But my mother made me quit a couple of years ago.” Alyssa shifted uncomfortably. “It was fine as a hobby and an impressive skill until she figured out I was more serious about it than going the typical high society route of marriage and children.”

“Well, I don’t know your mother, but that’s all a load of horseshit, girly. You can have it all, or however much you want. Just look at me!” Angie struck a pose and Alyssa couldn’t resist the urge to laugh. “Now let’s see that Zazz!”

“Fine, but only if Emma does, too,” Alyssa said, sticking her tongue out at a surprised and suddenly hesitant Emma. Then Alyssa kicked off her shoes and tossed them to the side of the stage.

What happened next was the most fun Alyssa had had in years. Angie would throw out a wicked combination of steps and other moves, and Alyssa, dress lifted several inches off the floor, would do her best to copy her. And she actually did a fairly good job of it. Emma would just laugh and tap out a quick jig with as much gusto as she could, hands in her pockets and not a care in the world. 

Eventually Angie had to cut her revelry short, as Cora was getting sleepy, but Alyssa found herself continuing to swing around the dance floor, a hand or arm almost perpetually linked with Emma’s. And the longer she held on to Emma, the more she realized that she never really wanted to let go.

* * *

Emma was out of breath and felt like she was sweating through her shirt by the time she and Alyssa finally left the dance floor, but she couldn’t stop smiling as Alyssa dragged her back to the table and pushed a glass of stout into her hand.

“I think you ought to stick to drawing, Nolan,” she said, giving a cheeky grin and clinking her own pint against Emma’s before proceeding to down the Guinness like it was water.

“I thought I was the Irish one.” Emma giggled and received a swat to her arm in reprisal.

“Shut up; I’m thirsty.” Alyssa frowned at her empty glass and let out a less-than-ladylike burp. “Excuse me.”

“How many glasses of champagne did you have at dinner?” Emma asked, making a valiant effort not to laugh as she tried to figure roughly how much Alyssa had had to drink and if she needed to worry about any projectile vomit incidents.

“What? You think a first-class girl can’t drink?” Alyssa asked with a cocked eyebrow, but Emma continued to look at her expectantly. “Mother says that,” Alyssa cleared her throat and straightened up exaggeratedly in her chair. “‘Any more than two glasses of champagne and they’ll think you’re a lush like your father, Alyssa.’ Sooo… two. And a half.” Her high-pitched mocking of her mother’s snooty tone was surprisingly on the money considering her current state, but then, Emma assumed she’d perfected that impression over the years. 

A ruckus across the table drew their attention away from their discussion of Alyssa’s drinking habits, as apparently Nick and Kevin were in the midst of an arm-wrestling match. Kaylee and Shelby were positively delighted by this development, and a handful of people had gathered around to watch and start placing wagers. 

It went back and forth for a minute or two, both of their arms shaking with the tension and effort before finally Kevin’s arm gave and Nick slammed his hand over, victorious. He let out a whoop of celebration and Kaylee grabbed his face in both hands, planting a congratulatory kiss on his lips.

“Oh, come on! Best two out of three!” Kevin sulked as he rubbed his hand. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Alyssa jump to her feet, hands on her hips and chin held high. “So, you think you’re big tough men?” she shouted, getting their attention. 

They all looked more than a little bewildered, which was exactly how Emma felt. She wasn’t really sure what to do, but she was also admittedly _ really _curious about what Alyssa was up to.

“Well, let’s see you do _ this! _” Alyssa challenged. She scooped up the hem of her dress and gathered it to one side. “Here Emma, hold this.”

Emma did as she was told and watched, along with everyone else, as Alyssa assumed a ballet stance. With her arms outstretched and in her stocking feet, Alyssa slowly rose into the en pointe position. She held it for a few seconds, and everyone was gaping at the incredible display of muscle control. Then she came back down, her face contorted in what Emma guessed was immense discomfort as she yelped loudly. Emma had to reach out and support her weight momentarily to keep her from toppling over while everyone else clapped and made noises of appreciation.

“Oww! I haven’t done that in years!” Alyssa laughed and winced simultaneously, looking down as she flexed her toes.

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to have special shoes for that?” Emma asked. She was practically holding Alyssa in a dancer’s dip position and trying desperately to remain calm about it.

“Oh yes, sorry. I must have left them in my _ other _ dress,” Alyssa replied snarkily, making a face at Emma before dissolving into giggles.

Deciding that, no matter how adorable Alyssa was being, she didn’t want to incur Mrs. Greene’s wrath by returning her daughter to her a drunken mess, Emma slid Alyssa back down into a chair and quickly went to fetch her a glass of water. She was just heading back to Alyssa, drink in hand, when she was stopped by Jules putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re playing a dangerous game with that girl, Em. I hope you know what you’re doing,” he warned as they both looked over at Alyssa, who was conversing animatedly with her maids as they also waited for Nick and Kevin to return with drinks.

“I honestly don’t think I know anything anymore.” Emma shrugged. “Just gonna go with it. How’re you doing?” She asked, nodding her head in the direction of the pretty blonde he’d been dancing with all night.

“Uh, good. She doesn’t know what I’m saying and I don’t understand her, so we’re getting along pretty well.” Jules smiled to himself. “But I think her name is Natalie.”

“A name is good. A name is something to build from.” Emma grinned so that she didn’t laugh as Jules rolled his eyes.

“You think you’re so funny, but I bet you that I’m gonna be getting off the boat with my girl. Do you think you can say the same?” With that, he was weaving back through the crowd to Natalie, and Emma returned to Alyssa, suddenly feeling as if she’d just been socked in the stomach. 

Logically, she knew that none of this could last. In a matter of days, she’d go back to her so-called rootless existence, and Alyssa would go off and marry a man she didn’t even seem to like, let alone love. But when Alyssa saw her coming and smiled wide, she couldn’t stop a sick sort of hopeful feeling from taking her over.

“Oooh, merci beaucoup!” Alyssa said excitedly as she accepted the water from Emma and took a large drink.

Emma shook her head. “C’est ne rien, Mademoiselle.” She replied in a far worse accent than Alyssa, even in her drunken state. “Where did you learn to speak French?”

Alyssa made a face. “Finishing school,” she said with a great level of distaste. “And sort of my father’s extended family, but they mostly speak Arabic at home and I do _ not _know that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Too hard.” She finished her water and set the glass down on the table. “It’s loud in here. Wanna go for a walk?” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled herself up onto her feet.

“Um, yeah actually I think some fresh air might be a good idea.” Emma didn’t know if she or Alyssa needed the air and space more, but she definitely knew that it was needed. Standing up, she removed her jacket from the back of her chair and was about to slip it on when she realized that Alyssa didn’t have a coat, and her dress left most of her arms and shoulders uncovered. Emma, at least, had long sleeves.

“Here,” Emma said, holding open the jacket and offering it to Alyssa. 

“Aww, how chivalrous!” Alyssa bit her lip and smiled before turning around and letting Emma help her into the jacket. Once it was on, she turned back to Emma and reached out to brush a stray piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. Emma could have sworn Alyssa’s fingers lingered a little longer than necessary against her cheek as she pulled her hand back. “You’re truly something, Emma Nolan.”

That was all it took for Emma to be sure she wouldn’t need her jacket anyway. Not with the way she flushed at Alyssa’s words and gentle touch. She tried to appear casual as she accompanied Alyssa back out to the deck, but her thoughts (and her heart) were racing. In order to combat her nerves, she started humming the notes to a random song as they walked.

“That’s ‘Come Josephine,’ right?” Alyssa murmured a little ways into their walk. She smiled serenely and began to quietly sing, appearing unsure of some of the lyrics but pressing on regardless. “Come Josephine in my flying machine… and it’s up she goes! Up she goes...”

“In the air she goes,” Emma continued for her.

“Where? There she goes!” they both sang simultaneously, quite a bit louder and followed by a bout of laughter.

As Alyssa pulled herself back together after her laughing fit, head tilted back, she opened her eyes and let out a soft gasp. “Wow,” she breathed. “Isn’t it magnificent? So vast and endless…” She wandered over to the rail and leaned against it, continuing to gaze up at the sky.

Emma walked over to join her, looking up at the blazing stars overhead. The night was clear and bright, perfect in every way.

“We’re so small,” Alyssa mused. “My crowd, they think they’re giants. But they’re not even dust in God’s eye.”

“You’re not one of them. There’s been a mistake. You got sent to the wrong address,” Emma half-joked.

“I did, didn’t I?” Alyssa giggled.

At that moment, as they leaned back and took in the cosmos, both of their hands on the railing shifted just enough so that their little fingers were almost interlaced. Emma tore her eyes away from the sky and looked down at their hands, unable to stop the wistful smile that came to her lips. Then she glanced back up to Alyssa’s face, which was still turned up to the sky in wonder, a blissful look on her face.

It struck Emma again, much like the first time she saw Alyssa, how breathtakingly beautiful she was. Emma didn’t think it mattered whether she came from the middle of nowhere Indiana or the top of Mount Olympus itself, anyone could believe Alyssa was royalty. She was better than any fairytale. Beautiful, vibrant, strong, compassionate… Emma finally understood what all the stories were talking about where men would fight to the death for a woman’s hand, or wage entire wars over her. Emma didn’t think she was anything super special herself, but she would fight for Alyssa. She would have to be a fool not to.

“Look, a shooting star!” Alyssa’s excited voice pulled Emma from her reverie and she looked up just in time to see what Alyssa was pointing at.

“That was a long one! You know, my grandpa used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to Heaven,” Emma said.

“I like that,” Alyssa said, smiling softly. “Aren’t we supposed to wish on it?” Her eyes found Emma’s then and didn’t stray.

“Why?” Emma asked, barely believing her own nerve. “What would you wish for?”

They were so close, the clouds of their breath intermingled. All Emma wanted to do in that moment was kiss Alyssa. It would be so easy. She didn’t know if it was her own wishful thinking coming into play, but she could have sworn she saw Alyssa’s gaze flick down to her lips for a brief second.

“Something I can’t have,” Alyssa said, and it was the simplest yet most confounding answer she could have given. Those deep brown eyes of hers were so filled with sadness, Emma felt a piece of her own heart break as she finally allowed herself to get lost in them.

_ I wish for you to have whatever it is you think you can’t have, so that you can finally be happy, _Emma thought.

Alyssa’s eyes trailed over to one of the doors inside, a lit sign reading _ First Class Entrance _ above it. “I don’t want to go back,” she said, shaking her head at the inevitable.

Emma sighed, feeling as if that stuffy dinner had happened within another lifetime, not mere hours ago. “Well, the night is still _ somewhat _young.” She didn’t have a watch or a clock handy, but she still knew this was mostly a bald-faced lie. It was late, and Alyssa’s people, sans her maids, would be wondering where she was. And yet, Emma didn’t want her to go back, either.

Instead, she took Alyssa’s hand and led her the long way back downstairs.

* * *

One thing Alyssa noticed as she and Emma neared the doors to the third-class common room for the second time that evening was the music--or rather, the lack thereof--emanating from it. It was in no way silent, but it was abundantly clear that most of the party-goers had returned to their rooms or were in the process of doing so. Even the band had abandoned their instruments near the stage until they could start all over again the next evening.

“We aren’t going to be kicked out of here, are we?” Alyssa asked as Emma let go of her hand and made her way to the stage.

“Probably not?” Emma shrugged her shoulders and moved to pick up a guitar.

“I really don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” Alyssa reminded her, looking around for anyone who might tell her to stop this instant.

“Oh, I won’t hurt it,” Emma said, running her hand along its neck as if coming home to a lover, then walking over to the corner of the room and gesturing for Alyssa to follow. She sat down on the floor against the wall, plucking at the strings a few times and listening to their tone before ever so slightly adjusting the tuning pegs until she seemed satisfied. “Are you gonna stand there all night?” She asked with a smile and patted a spot on the floor next to her.

Alyssa reasoned that her only options were to head all the way back to first-class, which she had already decided against, or to sit down with Emma. So with a huff of annoyance that she didn’t even really feel, she walked over and slid down the wall to take her seat by Emma.

“So what are you, some kind of Renaissance woman?” Alyssa asked with a wry smile.

“Maybe?” Emma said with a straight face that quickly turned into a grin. “Or maybe there’s just really not much to do back in Edgewater.”

Alyssa pursed her lips. “I think you’re just being modest.”

Emma shook her head vehemently. “No, really, it’s easy. Here,” She reached for Alyssa’s hand and brought it to the frets, adjusting her fingers and making sure they were pressed down on the strings before she strummed it and Alyssa was almost surprised to hear a real note come out. “That’s a C chord,” Emma explained, then she was moving Alyssa’s fingers to another place and position and strumming again. “That’s a G7.”

“Why isn’t it just a G?” Alyssa asked, mostly because she could honestly have Emma instruct her for hours if she were so inclined.

“Because it’s a higher note.” Emma said simply and moved Alyssa’s fingers back to the C chord, strummed, and returned to the G7 before she started singing softly, “There’s a tear in your eye, and I’m wondering why. For it never should be there at all.” She cleared her throat and took full control over the guitar, playing notes she hadn’t shown Alyssa as she continued. “With such power in your smile, sure a stone you’d beguile, so there’s never a teardrop should fall.”

Alyssa sighed contentedly and shifted so that her head was resting on Emma’s shoulder. “Uhhh…” She thought a moment for the lyrics, her mind still a little fuzzy, and being drowsy wasn’t helping. “When your sweet lilting laughter’s like some fairy song,” She sang just loud enough for Emma to hear, “And your eyes twinkle bright as can be. You should laugh all the while and all other times smile.” She nuzzled deeper into Emma’s neck, noting how she smelled like soap and something distinctly _ her _. “And now, smile a smile for me.” She finished with a yawn.

She felt Emma shift slightly, and it must have been to accommodate Alyssa letting more of her weight rest against Emma’s side. Because, as soon as Emma shifted, Alyssa didn’t think she had ever felt as comfortable or as peaceful as she did right then, even in the many luxurious beds she had slept in over the years. She couldn’t suppress a blissful sigh as she snuggled closer, her sleepy mind unconcerned with how this could be perceived or the possible repercussions. 

Emma went ahead and continued on with the chorus and second verse of the song, and Alyssa thought dreamily that she wished she could fall asleep like this every night. As she finally drifted off, she could have sworn she felt the softest of kisses pressed to her hairline. She also would have sworn she slept with a smile on her face the entire night.

The first thing Alyssa noticed upon waking was that she had definitely been moved during the night. For a split-second, she felt a pang of disappointment at the thought that maybe her night with Emma had been nothing but a fantastic dream. But as she became more alert, she realized that the bed beneath her was nowhere near soft enough to be her own, and she could hear unfamiliar muffled voices in her periphery. With that, her eyes shot open and darted around, simultaneously assessing her situation and searching for Emma.

“Don’t worry, nothing happened,” came a deep voice from only a yard or so away. The voice belonged to Jules, who was lounging on a bunk across the room from Alyssa. 

It took her a few seconds, but she managed to piece together what Emma had told her about them sharing quarters, and she surmised that Emma had brought Alyssa back to her room after she had fallen asleep. Then Jules’ words fully registered and Alyssa glanced down to see that she was still in her dress from the night before. Her shoes were even sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Your girl’s up on deck. Something about wanting to watch the sunrise from the front of the ship,” Jules said, answering Alyssa’s question before she even had a chance to ask it.

She chose to ignore his phrasing, and the rush of butterflies that accompanied the thought of Emma being hers, and simply thanked him before slipping on her shoes and beginning her trek to the bow of the ship. Many of the people she passed along the way smiled and nodded at her, evidently remembering her from the night before. She found herself smiling back automatically, feeling more at ease amongst this group of friendly strangers than she felt around people she had known most of her life.

Alyssa was still smiling by the time she reached the front of the ship and first caught sight of Emma. She was standing right at the apex of the bow railing with her back to Alyssa, wind whipping through her curls. The sun was just beginning to rise, and some of its light seemed to weave its way through the golden strands of Emma’s hair. Alyssa wasn’t aware of making any noise, but Emma chose that moment to turn around, her eyes instantly finding Alyssa’s and the brightest smile taking over her face. 

“Jules said you might be up--”

“Ssshhh. Come here.” Emma stepped down and beckoned her forward, reaching a hand out for Alyssa to take. “Give me your hand.” 

Alyssa did so without hesitation, and was once again overcome with how much she never really wanted to let go of Emma. Her hands were slightly calloused from her playing and drawing, but otherwise soft and strong, and they fit perfectly in Alyssa’s own.

“Now close your eyes,” Emma said next. 

At this, Alyssa did hesitate a bit. 

“Go on,” Emma urged, voice as soft and reassuring as her smile.

Her heart was beginning to pound, but Alyssa took a deep breath in through her nose and closed her eyes. After they fluttered shut, she sensed Emma move in closer to her side, and then there was a gentle hand at the small of her back, guiding her forward.

“Step up. Now hold on to the railing. Keep your eyes closed, don’t peek.”

“I’m not,” Alyssa assured her, doing exactly as Emma directed and trying her hardest not to sneak a glance, both out of fear and curiosity.

Alyssa gripped the railing tightly, and again she sensed Emma reposition herself, this time so that her body was directly behind Alyssa. Emma’s hands came to rest on her waist, holding firm but gentle as she assisted Alyssa further.

“Now step up onto the rail,” she said, her voice closer to Alyssa’s ear this time.

That step was truly frightening given what Alyssa had experienced only a couple of days before, and Emma seemed to realize this.

“Do you trust me?” Emma whispered.

The question only gave Alyssa pause because of how immediately she knew the answer. That, and because no one else ever bothered to ask for her trust. Instinctively Alyssa knew that she trusted Emma with her life, and she sort of already had.

“Yes, I trust you,” Alyssa said, voice trembling.

“Okay, hold on.” 

With that, Emma helped her very carefully step up and onto the rail before stepping up with her. Alyssa could tell because she could suddenly feel the impact of Emma’s feet hitting the rail on either side of her own, and the front of Emma’s body was completely flush with Alyssa’s back.

“Remember, no peeking,” Emma cautioned her, and there was no way Alyssa was imagining Emma’s cheek brushing softly against hers as her hands covered Alyssa’s on the railing. 

Then Emma was very carefully removing Alyssa’s hands from their perch and slowly lifting her arms so that they were outstretched to each side. Emma’s hands stayed there with Alyssa’s for several seconds before drifting back down and wrapping around Alyssa’s waist, steadying her.

“Alright, open your eyes,” Emma whispered.

Alyssa gasped as she opened her eyes to see nothing but water and a slowly brightening sky. It was as if there was no ship under them at all.

“I’m flying!” Alyssa shouted and laughed in joyous disbelief. Emma laughed with her and brought her hands up to hold Alyssa’s, their fingers caressing through and around each other slowly.

Emma leaned in close, resting her chin on Alyssa’s shoulder a moment, then she turned her head to sing softly in her ear, “Come Josephine in my flying machine going up she goes, up she goes…” She trailed off as Alyssa giggled, tilting her head back and closing her eyes again briefly as she leaned back against Emma.

When Alyssa opened her eyes again, she turned her head towards Emma’s only to find their noses practically brushing. Emma was looking at her like no one else ever had, and Alyssa wondered if she had ever truly been seen before that moment. She had never felt so beautiful or safe or _ alive _ until Emma looked at her. 

In Emma’s gorgeous hazel eyes, the possibilities of the life Alyssa desperately wanted were reflected as clearly as the flecks of sunlight that found themselves at home in their depths. In Emma, Alyssa saw her wish come true. She could hardly remember the last time she actually let herself _ want _something, much less act on it. But there was no denying how much she wanted Emma Nolan.

And with that thought, Alyssa brought their arms down, wrapping them securely around her waist before closing the short distance between their lips and kissing Emma.

It felt inevitable, when their lips finally met. Like they had been waiting their entire lives instead of just the couple of days they had known each other. And maybe they had been; Alyssa certainly felt that way about Emma.

Emma’s lips were almost impossibly soft, and it may have been cold and windy, but Alyssa knew deep in her gut that the way Emma shuddered had nothing to do with either of those things. It took Emma a beat or two to respond, almost as if she was unsure it was happening or if she was allowed. But then one of her hands was coming up to cradle Alyssa’s jaw as her mouth slanted more fully against Alyssa’s, and a sound of contentment hummed in Emma’s chest when Alyssa reached around to bury her fingers in her hair.

It was everything the perfect kiss should be. It began slowly and almost tremulously, and then it seemed to sear into their senses as the passion built and they surrendered to the emotion of it, to each other. It wasn’t the first kiss for either of them, and yet something about it, the electricity of it, was so new and wonderful that Alyssa hoped it would never end. That she would never have to kiss anyone but Emma Nolan for as long as she lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, COME YELL AT US IN THE COMMENTS! We love y'all!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ORIGINAL CONTENT!!!
> 
> As we mentioned in the summary for the last chapter, we discovered that James Cameron actually skipped a day in the Titanic script. So we figured, why not have a whole chapter of original content that takes place during the extra day?? Well, here it is! It picks up exactly where the last chapter left off, which is where we began the timeline shift.
> 
> !!!TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR ABUSE AND PERIOD-TYPICAL HOMOPHOBIA!!!

“Whoa, hold on, hold on, hold on! So this like… really happened? Alyssa really got with Emma two days before the sinking?” Billy has yet to fully pick his jaw up off the table, and there’s something about his complete surprise at this development in the story that Jen finds simultaneously exasperating and unexplainably adorable. (Though his boyish good looks complete with dimples and dark wavy hair certainly help in that department.) Has he not been reading at all?

“Yes, William. It did. It can’t come as much of a surprise to you after how she described Emma in that tuxedo.” Jen slides the leather check folder, which their waitress had so graciously brought out sometime between the third quarter of the game and Alyssa wishing on stars for Emma to love her, in Billy’s direction. 

He pulls out his wallet without questioning it; he’s too busy practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. “I know, but it’s just… this is so freaking huge, you know? They’ve made _ movies _ about this girl. Books. Documentaries. Absolutely none of them ever knew the truth. All they care about is her _ heartbroken _fiancee--who was a real dick, apparently!”

Jennifer laughs. She hasn’t had the chance to speak on the subject to anyone in years. Her family has long since gotten tired of it. “Almost makes you see the futility in searching for a necklace that truly was the symbol of their entire relationship, huh?” She’s really only half-joking.

“Ah. I never said that. The diamond is the size of a baby’s fist; I’m not just going to leave it down there to get eaten by _ Halomonas titanicae _like the rest of the wreckage will be in the next, oh, 12 years. If we’re lucky.” Billy rolls his eyes as if even the suggestion of such a thing is completely ludicrous. Which, Jennifer can admit, it sort of would be if she weren’t in the know about the intimate details. But then, she's never been one to appreciate being talked down to by some wannabe Ponce de Leon.

“Pretty sure they only eat metal since they’ve only been found in rusticle samples. But you wouldn’t know that because you aren’t a _ scientist, _ you’re a damned _ treasure hunter _wading through the graves of over 1500 people to find a piece of jewelry.” She reaches across the table to slam the journal shut and pull it back towards herself.

“Hey, it’s not just for me, okay? I have investors who’ve poured so much into this project that I can’t just give up on it, alright?” He rubs at his temples in exasperation.

“Can’t or won’t? Face it, this whole thing is as much about your ego as it is the money you’d get from selling it to some modern version of Greg Hockley.” With that, Jennifer is getting up from the table, grabbing Alyssa’s journal, and making a beeline for the door.

“Jennifer, wait!” She hears Billy call, but she doesn’t stop. 

She’s power-walking down the street and is far enough away that she thinks he isn’t following her when she hears pounding footsteps behind her. She reluctantly stops as he catches up to her. 

“Please,” Billy implores her. 

Knowing she’ll regret it, Jennifer turns around, sighing when she sees that he, though red-faced and slightly out of breath, closely resembles a kicked puppy at this point. “You just… you are _ so close _ to getting why I hauled my ass all the way up here, and _ still, _ all you care about is the diamond.” A part of her just wants to get it over with and tell him the truth, but she doesn’t know if he’s prepared for that. Not yet, at least.

“Jen, I don’t know if any of this is even real, but in spite of myself, I _ do _ trust you, and there has to be _ some _reason why you would let me read that book. Just let me get the complete picture and I swear to you, when I find the diamond, I will treat it with the utmost care and I’ll… I’ll make sure the world gets the true story this time.” Billy sounds so genuinely sincere when he says this that Jennifer can only assume that he’s telling the truth. 

That, and she just really wants to believe that maybe he’s not the complete careless jackass his public persona has made him out to be for as long as she’s been following his work. God knows why.

“I think we should go somewhere more private for the rest of this,” she says, holding up the book with one hand. “Wanna show me around that big boat of yours?”

* * *

* * *

  
It wasn’t like Emma had kissed that many women in her life. In fact, she could count them on one hand. But the second Alyssa brought their lips together, Emma didn’t think it would have mattered if she had kissed thousands of women before her or none at all. Alyssa existed within a category all her own.

The moment was so damned perfect, in fact, that Emma had half a mind to consider that, perhaps, she hadn’t actually woken up yet. She was still asleep in Kevin’s vacant bed while Alyssa snored softly in the bunk below her.

But no. This was real. This was happening. And this was so _ right. _ Everything, from the way Alyssa’s body fit so effortlessly into hers, to how unbelievably soft her lips were, to her tongue tentatively daring to start exploring Emma’s mouth… it was all perfect. _ Alyssa _ was so perfect.

“Oy! You two! I suggest you move it someplace else or there’s a good chance you’ll fall overboard!”

And with that interruption from what sounded like the crow’s nest, the perfect moment was over.

“Yeah, that’s right, Goldilocks, we’re talking to you! Take it inside, Lad!” added another Cockney-accented voice.

Emma reluctantly tore her lips from Alyssa’s, who whimpered her own displeasure at the situation, and looked up to see two crewmen--notably sans a pair of binoculars or they probably would have noticed that she was definitely _ not _a lad--snickering to themselves. Luckily, the hecklers seemed to be the only other people up on the deck with them this early.

As loathe as Emma was to put any amount of distance between herself and Alyssa, she hopped down off the railing, keeping her hands firmly on Alyssa’s waist for both of their safety. Then she decided “to hell with it” and wrapped her arms fully around Alyssa from behind, hugging her tightly and lifting her away from the railing and spinning her back around to the deck and setting her feet on the ground.

Alyssa’s startled gasp quickly morphed into a delighted squeal and a fit of giggles, and Emma grinned helplessly as the sound of Alyssa’s laughter made her heart soar. She leaned in close again, her nose brushing Alyssa’s ear while they swayed slightly back and forth.

“Good morning, by the way,” Emma murmured.

“Best morning I’ve had in ages,” Alyssa said once she had stopped giggling, though still with an amused smile on her face.

“Keep it moving, you two! No need to rub everyone’s noses in it!”

Emma had to fight the urge to yell something highly inappropriate back at the pair of imbeciles who probably had the easiest job on the ship. Instead, she settled for raising a hand in the air and making an obscene gesture that she wasn’t even certain they could make out from their position. It drew a gasp from Alyssa, though, and Emma had the good sense to look slightly guilty in case Alyssa was actually upset. But then Alyssa was pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and dragging her towards the base of the mast leading up to the crow’s nest.

“They can’t see us if we’re directly below them,” Alyssa said matter-of-factly as she leaned against the mast, giving Emma a coy smile before tugging her in by the suspenders.

It was Emma’s turn to gasp as she suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with Alyssa, stopping her forward momentum with a hand on each side of Alyssa’s head. 

“I, uh… like the way you think.” Emma swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing.

She was once again mesmerized by Alyssa’s eyes. How they somehow managed to be both dark and bright at the same time. How they were framed by the longest, thickest lashes Emma had ever seen. How they were currently fixing Emma with a sultry look that would make even the burlesque dancers in Paris envious. Most astounding of all to Emma was that she was pretty sure Alyssa wasn’t even fully aware she was doing it.

Their noses brushed together for a long lingering moment before Emma’s gaze dropped to Alyssa’s mouth, and then she was truly sunk. Thinking that she had never seen or tasted such perfect lips in all her life, Emma leaned down to capture Alyssa’s full lower lip between her own, sucking gently.

Alyssa’s response was instantaneous and enthusiastic as she enveloped Emma’s upper lip with both of hers, mirroring Emma’s kiss while her hands continued to pull Emma closer. Her back arched slightly away from the mast behind her and Emma bought an arm down to wrap around her waist, also driven by the desire for them to be as close as possible.

One of Alyssa’s hands released their hold on Emma’s suspenders and shirt to slide up to the back of Emma’s neck, using that as leverage to reangle and deepen their kiss. Their tongues brushed briefly and then Alyssa was parting her lips with a soft sigh, and all the champagne in the world couldn’t make Emma feel as drunk as she felt just from kissing Alyssa Greene. 

With Alyssa’s body curved into hers as it was, it shouldn’t have sent such a surprised jolt through Emma as it did when a shift of their stance caused their thighs to press in between each other’s. She pulled back immediately, head down and eyes closed momentarily as she tried to reorient herself. 

When she dared to look up again, she saw that Alyssa was staring at her with wide eyes, and she appeared to be working on getting her own ragged breathing under control. Her lips were red and kiss-swollen, and her hair was mussed and beginning to come out of its elaborate updo. To put it frankly, she looked delectable and precisely like she’d just been kissed quite thoroughly.

Emma was in such deep shit.

“I uh, I should probably go get changed and let my mother know I didn’t fall overboard last night,” Alyssa said breathily and bit her lip.

Emma groaned. She didn’t want this--whatever this was--to end, but it was time. It had _ been _time since last night. “I think this is just an excuse for you to get first-class breakfast instead of the gruel they have downstairs.”

“Well, we _ do _have an omelet station...” Alyssa trailed off as she rolled her eyes. “What do you say you and I meet up right here this afternoon, say… two o’clock? Mother’s all booked up by then and Greg… well actually, I don’t exactly know what Greg has planned for the day, but certainly nothing with me.”

Emma’s heart gave a painfully hopeful lurch in her chest. Alyssa clearly wanted to spend more time with her, and the last thing Emma wanted to do was deny her, both for selfish and selfless reasons. But how could this last? It couldn’t. Even Barry, who had money and ran in similar circles to Alyssa, was relegated to secretly dating men who were married to women.

She should walk away. She had put Alyssa in enough jeopardy already. Sure, it would hurt, but it was for the best, right?

“Two o’clock, on the dot. You got it,” was what came out instead.

* * *

Alyssa felt entirely different walking back to her cabin than she had walking through third-class that morning. While everyone in third class had been relatively cordial toward her, in first-class she could feel eyes linger on her just a tad too long, and she suspected she would soon become the subject of whispered gossip. Dust in God’s eye had been such a charitable thing to call these people, and she was becoming more and more aware of that as she came to realize just how much of a pathetic existence most of them, herself included, had been living.

She breathed a sigh of sweet relief as she finally arrived at her cabin, but the feeling only lasted for all of ten seconds before she was greeted by her mother in the sitting room, sipping coffee alone as she reviewed what Alyssa could guess were probably more wedding preparations.

“When you said you would be going to bed early, I must say that I assumed you meant up here,” Veronica said, her voice even and cold as she didn’t even bother to look up.

Alyssa was in trouble. Of course she was in trouble. She’d been out all night.

“Honestly, Mother, it’s not nearly as bad as it seems.” Alyssa made a poor attempt to appease her mother that would have never worked, not even if Veronica hadn’t chosen that moment to look up and see the state her daughter was currently in.

She scoffed. “Somehow, I seriously doubt that.”

“Mother, Emma simply invited me to a party below deck and I just lost track of time.”

“All night? Looking like that?” Veronica finally rose from her seat and she approached Alyssa slowly, as if she may have picked up some kind of contagious poor person disease down in third class. She reached out toward Alyssa’s mouth, her finger brushing across Alyssa’s still-swollen lips before her pale face turned so red as to betray her silently furious act. “You are so beautiful, and yet so naive. You’re lucky poor Greg didn’t come back until late or he likely would have noticed his fiancée had gone off galavanting with that… that _ person _.”

“Her name is Emma, and you’re right, she _ is _a person. A person with feelings and talents and compassion, which is far more than I can say about all of you!”

The words had barely left Alyssa’s mouth before she was being slapped across the face. Hard.

It was shocking and it hurt, but Alyssa held her ground. She didn’t stumble or fall, despite how quickly her head whipped to the side or how her eyes instantly filled with tears.

“I can’t have you acting like this! You are engaged to a wonderful man who is prepared to give you everything. Don’t you want to be happy, Alyssa?”

“And what makes you so sure that Greg, or any man for that matter, can make me happy, Mother?” With that, Alyssa made her way into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and dragging the chair from the vanity to rest under the knob.

She heard her mother storming after her the entire way, but Alyssa was quick enough to just beat her. Veronica didn’t kick at the door or scream; that wasn’t her style. Instead, she lingered outside of it, letting her presence be known in the same hovering, haunting way that it always had been.

“I know… I know that you’re _ confused. _ You’ve been this way since you were a little girl and maybe it had something to do with your father being away so much, or maybe it was something I did,” Veronica was clearly trying to gain sympathy for how _ hard _it was to raise a girl most other mothers in her position would have sent away, but Alyssa was having none of it. “Lyssy, the life that that girl leads… it’s not for anyone with an ounce of respectability. A pretty, genteel girl like you deserves to experience all that life has to offer, and Greg can give you that. She never can.”

The use of Alyssa’s childhood nickname had the opposite effect of what Veronica probably hoped it would. Rather than tearing down Alyssa’s walls, it further strengthened her resolve. She was _ not _ a child anymore, and she had always hated that nickname anyway. Veronica was determined that Alyssa was not responsible enough to make her own choices or wise enough to know her own mind, yet she thought her mature enough to shoulder the burden of marrying a man just to secure their continued high society lifestyle. 

Alyssa was tired of being at the mercy of other people’s whims. She wanted to decide what experiences she got to have and what life she wanted to lead. That wasn’t just what she _deserved_, but it’s what she so desperately _wanted. _

Veronica kept talking, but Alyssa was no longer listening. She wasn’t quite sure when the tears started to fall, though they probably hadn’t stopped since she had been struck. She grabbed a handkerchief out of one of the vanity drawers and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, focusing on her breathing and trying not to have an episode.

Her morning had started out so wonderfully. Not even a half-hour ago, she had been wrapped in Emma’s embrace and having the most incredible kiss of her life. Well, if she was being honest, it was her first _ real _ kiss. Outside of “kissing practice” and kissing boys that she never truly wanted to kiss in the first place, Alyssa had never had a real, honest kiss before Emma. And _ God _, it had been one for the storybooks.

The thought of Emma and the promise of seeing her again flooded through Alyssa’s system, washing away most of the bitterness of her encounter with her mother. Alyssa brought her fingers up to her lips, closing her eyes and reliving the moment over again before falling back onto the bed and grinning. Her mother could think what she wanted about Emma, and Greg could buy her the world, but he could never give her this feeling. At the end of the day, that’s all she wanted out of life.

“I just want you to think about what I said,” Veronica’s voice said from the other side of the door and there seemed like there was some finality to it. Sure enough, Alyssa heard her mother’s retreating footsteps and the sound of a door opening and closing just a few seconds later. 

She took the opportunity to get up and retrieve her chair from under the doorknob, returning it to the vanity and getting to work on removing the disastrous leftovers from last night’s meticulously-applied makeup. Thankfully she didn’t think her cheek would bruise where her mother had hit her, but it was definitely tender and the skin had reddened a bit.

Once she’d scrubbed her face bare, she began the painstaking process of taking her hair down and brushing it out. Normally Kaylee or Shelby would help her with such a thing, but she figured they had probably slept in after the previous night’s events. It took her longer than she would have liked on her own, but she found the routine oddly therapeutic.

By the time she finished her hair, washed up, and donned new clothes, her nerves were no longer completely on edge. That was fortunate because she knew she still had to make it through breakfast with her mother, Greg, and various other first-class folks who were most likely gossiping about her already.

Which turned out to be exactly the case, as, by the time she’d made it to the table, everyone was snickering at some remark Greg had made.

“Oh, speak of the devil!” he exclaimed when he noticed Alyssa’s presence. “Sweetpea, I was just telling Captain Smith here about why I won’t be allowing you anywhere near propellers from here on out.”

“I’m so glad my near-death experience is so amusing to you all,” Alyssa muttered into a cappuccino her mother had taken the liberty of ordering for her. It wasn’t loud enough for anyone except Greg to hear, given the way his face twisted.

“Well, I was just regaling our dear friends with the tale of how your friend, the cross-dressing artist, came to have dinner with us. Truly, it’s something intended for Mr. Edison’s moving pictures.”

Alyssa felt her knuckles turn white under the table, but she put on a good face as their waiter came around. “May I please have a Buck’s Fizz?” she asked the waiter sweetly after Greg once again ordered her meal for her without asking. But there wasn’t enough champagne on the whole ship that would have made the experience any more tolerable for her.

“Make that two!” Madeleine chimed in with a giggle.

“The Captain and Mr. Hawkins have very graciously agreed to give us a tour of the entire ship tomorrow and explain how it’s run. Isn’t that kind of them, Alyssa?” Veronica sipped her coffee innocently, as if the events of the past hour never transpired.

“Oh _ goody _,” Alyssa cooed sardonically. “Maybe I’ll learn more about propellers!”

An awkward silence descended over the group for several moments and, with the exception of Madeleine and Mr. Hawkins, Alyssa thought they all deserved to stew in it for a bit.

Conversation picked back up once their drinks and meals were brought to them, though Alyssa didn’t say much to anyone aside from Madeleine. Her mind was elsewhere, near the crow’s nest at the bow of the ship, where Emma would hopefully be waiting for her. Two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

* * *

On her way to breakfast in the third class dining hall, Emma was trying with all her might to combat the newly acquired spring in her step with the knowledge that there was no way any of this could end well. She failed miserably, if the immediacy with which her giddiness was called out was any indication.

“Oh no, that look means trouble!” Kevin groaned as Emma wandered over to their table. She unceremoniously nudged her way between Nick and Jules so that she was sitting directly opposite him.

“You’re one to talk about trouble seeing as you’re gonna get Shelby fired for abandoning her job to do _ you _ instead of it.” Emma sent Shelby an apologetic look before turning a more pointed one towards Kevin. He looked instantly remorseful, so Emma sighed. “Sorry. I just… don’t know what to do. Alyssa wants to meet up again at two.”

“Well I mean, that’s _ good _, right? She must like you. And it’s painfully obvious how much you like her. So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is the longer I stick around, the more likely it is she’s gonna get in serious trouble. Whether it’s with her crowd or away from them, she’s at risk with me. _ Because of _me.” Emma sighed again and hung her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “That and honestly I’m just terrified of getting hurt. I’ve never met anyone like her before in my life.”

“If I may be so bold,” Shelby said, leaning forward with her arms on the table. “You’re seriously deluded if you think Alyssa isn’t going to do whatever she wants anyway. Or at least she’s going to try. Her mom may be a controlling bitch but, in all the time I’ve known Alyssa, she hasn’t exactly been meek and accepting of it. You like her, right? And you want to meet her at two and see where it goes?”

“Of course! Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so torn up about it.” Emma looked at Shelby, who looked just as serious and sincere as Emma felt. 

Shelby waited several seconds, appearing to be thinking things over, then she nodded slowly.

“Well, you’re risking getting hurt regardless, for multiple reasons. But the only way you’re guaranteed to get hurt is if you don’t at least go meet her and talk to her about it. I’m sure you’re already aware by now, but Alyssa has way too many people trying to make decisions for her, and she hates it. You want to meet her, make that decision for you. Let her make her own.”

Emma sat back, stunned momentarily. For someone employed as the help for an obviously controlling first-class woman, Shelby was certainly opinionated and forthright. Emma’s expression turned penitent as she realized Shelby was right. 

Alyssa deserved the freedom to choose. That’s what had driven her to the railing of the ship the night they met. Emma could and would never take that away from her. The fact that Alyssa might choose _ her _, though? It was almost beyond fathoming.

As if reading Emma’s thoughts, Shelby added, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look as happy as she did last night. Sure, it was a fun party, but she’s been to loads of parties. She’s clearly quite smitten with you, which actually explains a lot about her in hindsight. So don’t overthink it. Just go meet her.”

“You may want to get freshened up a bit before you do, though,” Kaylee chimed in from her place on the other side of Nick. “You really gave that suit a good time last night, Emma.”

Glancing down, Emma saw what Kaylee meant. She looked quite rumpled, and she had danced and sweated in it a lot the night before. She currently had the jacket off, the shirtsleeves rolled up, and the bowtie and several buttons at the top had long since been undone.

“You’re both right. Barry probably won’t even want this suit back, but I should return it anyway after breakfast. Then I’ll go meet Alyssa.” She gave Shelby a grateful smile. “Thank you, by the way. She’s a keeper, Kev. You could use someone with brains to balance you out.”

Her laughter was interrupted by a piece of toast smacking her square in the face.

Emma stood in front of the door to Barry’s suite, heart still pounding after barely managing to convince the man working the first-class entrance to let her through. She had put all the pieces of the suit back on as best she could, but it was still wrinkled and the bowtie hung loosely around her neck. She hoped Barry hadn’t thrown out her clothes from the day before because she really didn’t want to have to walk back to her quarters in her undergarments.

It didn’t take long for the door to open and Barry to stick his head out, his eyes and hair indicating that he was just in the process of waking up. Upon seeing Emma, he seemed to relax somewhat and he opened the door wider to let her in. Emma raised her eyebrows as she stepped in and realized he was in his robe and pajamas.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I work in entertainment. We’re brunch people… waking up in time for breakfast is just not done.” He made a brushing off motion with his hand and led the way into the sitting room, where a coffee tray awaited him. “So, judging by the state of you, I assume last night went well?” he asked with a sly smile as he poured out a cup of coffee for Emma and then himself.

Emma rolled her eyes, but returned his smile with a cheeky grin of her own. “Yeah, it was amazing. But this morning was even better.”

“Ooh la la, Little Miss Perfect, Jr. is wilder than I thought!”

“I suppose canoodling at the front of the ship out in the open is pretty wild, yeah. But nothing happened beyond that. I may be poor, but I like to think I’m a gentlewoman,” Emma said proudly.

“Uh-huh…” Barry looked at her incredulously. “So when are you seeing her again?”

Emma let out a huff of breath, her false confidence breaking. “Damn, you’re good. She wants to meet at two. I just thought I would bring your tux back and thank you first. You still have my clothes from yesterday, right?”

“I actually sent them off to the cleaner last night. I admire your whole Bohemian artist aesthetic, but you don’t have to smell like one.”

“I _ just _ rubbed some lemon on those yesterday.”

“Oh, honey…” Barry shook his head and got up from the couch, going into the next room and coming back a few moments later with a folded stack of clothes that were far too colorful to be Emma’s. “Please, take these and go draw yourself a bath. I assure you, Alyssa will be very appreciative.”

“I… I…” Emma stood there gaping for an uncomfortable amount of time before snapping out of it. “This is too much…”

“Nonsense. We help out our own. Solidarity and all that.” He stepped closer to Emma and placed a hand on her back, guiding her towards the bathroom. “Fresh towels are in the cupboard.”

Emma didn’t know what else to say, so she simply threw her arms around him in a hug that was only made awkward by the clothes still in his arms. He chuckled and patted her back gently, passing the clothes off to her as she pulled back.

“Thank you so much, Barry!” Emma said, trying not to tear up.

“Don’t mention it,” Barry replied, looking as if he might cry himself. “Seriously, don’t. Veronica Greene is a wicked termagant and I don’t want to face her wrath because I helped you corrupt her daughter. Also, I look fat when I cry.”

Emma just snorted and entered the bathroom, coming to a stop just inside the threshold as she shut the door behind her. The bathroom was nicer and cleaner than the fanciest restaurant back in Edgewater. (Almost bigger, if she was being honest.) Seeing as how adamant Barry was about her getting clean, and thinking she may never get an opportunity like this again, Emma set about taking the most luxurious, thorough bath of her life.

* * *

Escaping from Greg and her mother proved more difficult than Alyssa had anticipated. She assumed that her mother knew who she would be meeting up with the first chance she got, which explained Alyssa getting invited to afternoon tea. But there was precious little Veronica could do when Alyssa announced, right in front of Mrs. Allen, her intentions to go lie down due to seasickness. By that point, the whole ship knew Dee Dee so feared the sight of a person vomiting in her presence that she’d been unsubtly wary of getting too close to Madeleine the entire voyage.

“Don’t worry, Madame. We’ll make sure she rests,” Shelby assured Mrs. Greene, who begrudgingly accepted her assurance despite Shelby and Kaylee both arriving uncharacteristically late to breakfast.

Once they were most of the way back to the suite, Shelby took Alyssa’s hand and tugged her to a stop. “Listen, we know you’re going to sneak off to meet Emma.” Alyssa must have visibly started to panic because then Shelby was rushing to continue. “It’s fine, we’ll cover for you. We just knew because we had breakfast with Kevin and Nick this morning and she showed up later talking about meeting up with you.”

Alyssa blushed. “What did she say?”

Shelby groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh wow, you really _ do _ have it bad. Just as bad as her, it seems. She’s over the moon for you and is worried about you getting hurt more than anything, so I think she’s one of the good ones. Now get going, it’s already after two!”

And that was how Alyssa found herself making her way to the front of the ship, walking perhaps faster than was considered appropriate, but she was running late to a rendezvous she had scheduled herself.

Along the way, she passed by a group of musicians from the first-class dining hall, who seemed to be in the process of moving a bunch of instruments back into a storage area. She grumbled to herself as she tried to move past them, but then a light bulb went off in her head as her eyes came to rest on a guitar case.

“Hi there, gentlemen,” Alyssa said politely, putting on her most winning smile. “Are you putting these instruments away, by chance?”

“Yes ma’am,” one of the younger men said, removing his hat and shifting his stance to appear more attentive and respectable in Alyssa’s presence. 

“I was just wondering… my dear friend’s birthday is today and things were so hectic before we departed that I completely forgot to buy her a gift. I know she’s been wanting a new guitar, though. Do you suppose I might buy that one off you?”

“A used guitar is a rather peculiar birthday present, don’t you think?” The band leader--Mr. Hartley, as he had been introduced their first night on the ship-- asked from where he kneeled beside an open violin case.

“Well… she’s a rather peculiar girl.” The corners of Alyssa’s mouth twitched upward into a smile. That was definitely one way to describe Emma Nolan. “In any case, money is no object.” She reached into her handbag and produced a couple of crisp twenties Greg had given her after breakfast, though what he thought she would actually spend that kind of money on while on a _ ship _, she had no idea.

“Oh, Miss, we can’t accept--” Mr. Hartley started, only to be interrupted by another member of the band.

“--It’s my guitar, Wallace. I can.” He gladly took the money, which Alyssa figured was likely enough to buy him several new instruments, and handed her the guitar case in return. “Now, tell your friend to be careful with her. She was made by Orville Gibson himself.” 

Alyssa nodded dutifully, though she had no idea what that meant. “I’m sure she will treat her like a proper lady, sir. Thank you so much!”

Without another thought or a moment to waste, Alyssa took the guitar case by its handle and continued her swift journey up towards the mast. She stopped for a couple of seconds once she reached the bow deck, taking in her surroundings and catching her breath. The deck wasn’t crowded, by any means, but she and Emma would notably _ not _ be alone this time.

Speaking of Emma… as Alyssa let her gaze wander over the people spread out across the deck, her eyes gravitated almost immediately to a figure milling about not too far away from the crow’s nest, blonde hair ruffling softly in the wind. Her heart began beating in earnest, surely giving the third-class band’s drums a run for their money. Unable and unwilling to contain her delighted grin, she quickly wound her way through the people and up the last set of steps to where Emma was.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa said softly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder to get her attention. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone here. Have you seen her?”

Emma turned to face her at once, appearing relieved and pleasantly surprised by her arrival much like she had by the clock after dinner. And just like then, Alyssa couldn’t help but marvel at how handsome Emma looked. Gone was the tux from the night before. In its stead was a soft pink button-up shirt under a brown plaid waistcoat with matching brown pants.

It took every last bit of willpower Alyssa had to not kiss her right then and there. Instead, she had to settle for taking Emma’s hand in her one free one just as Emma seemed to notice the guitar case.

“What do you got there, Miss? You’re looking like a real traveling busker,” Emma said, raising a curious eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” Alyssa said with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Come on, I’ll show you. I know a place we can go where we won’t be bothered.” 

She took Emma’s hand and began leading her toward the port side of A-deck. Emma didn’t protest at all, but did look around nervously as she let herself be led to some unknown fate. Alyssa couldn’t blame her given that their path took them right into the long hallway between the First Class Lounge and the Grand Staircase.

Alyssa found the room she was searching for easily enough, opening the door and peeking inside to see if it was actually occupied for once before ushering Emma inside. The Reading and Writing Room was spacious and leisurely, with tall windows that overlooked the Promenade Deck and let ample sunlight filter into the room. Comfortable silk-upholstered settees and chairs in shades of yellow and blue were grouped around tables and writing desks for convenience.

“Wow,” Emma said, craning her head around to look at the ornately designed room. “This is fancy stuff. And you said people hardly ever come in here? Rich people are crazy.”

Alyssa laughed at the look of panic that passed over Emma’s face as she apparently realized what she had said. “I won’t argue with you there. But most first-class cabins have tables and settees, so people just do their reading and writing in their rooms instead of coming in here.” Emma relaxed substantially at that and Alyssa bit her lip as she continued on. “Also I can’t complain when it gives us the opportunity to spend more time together.”

Emma’s cheeks pinkened to match her shirt, her hands going to her pockets and her eyes glancing down to the floor almost shyly for a second. Then they drifted back up to the guitar case Alyssa was holding yet again. She cleared her throat and asked, “So… are you going to tell me what _ that’s _ all about or am I supposed to guess?”

“Well,” Alyssa walked over to a settee and patted the spot next to her for Emma to sit. “Parts of last night are still a little hazy for me, but I do vividly remember you being quite the talented musician, and yet I haven’t seen you with a guitar before or since then. So I just thought…” She trailed off as she undid the snaps on the case and opened it to present the guitar to Emma. “Why not repay you for that very insightful lesson last night?”

Emma’s stuttered intake of breath and slackjaw expression were comical for the first few seconds, but then Alyssa started to worry that perhaps she’d overstepped or something.

“You… you got me a guitar?” Emma asked once she found her voice. She blinked several times as if in disbelief, then looked to Alyssa with wide, misty eyes.

“Yes? I mean, you’ve been so kind and understanding and you’ve been through so much because of me already so I just really wanted to repay you somehow in a way that would actually _ mean something _ to you-” Alyssa’s rambling was cut off as Emma pulled her in for a warm, exuberant hug.

“Thank you,” Emma whispered into Alyssa’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Alyssa. This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

Alyssa sighed as Emma’s fresh scent surrounded her and her hair tickled her nose. Her heart felt so full at making Emma this happy. She just wanted to stay in Emma’s embrace forever. “You’re welcome, Em. I’m so glad you like it.”

Emma pulled back a little to look at her with impossibly soft eyes, her hand coming up to lightly brush against Alyssa’s cheek. “Are you kidding? I love it. I would never be able to afford a guitar like this in a million years. And that you even thought to get it for me… well, that’s the best part.”

“The guy said to be careful because it was made by Orville somebody, but I told him you’d treat it right,” Alyssa said nonchalantly.

“Wait… Orville Gibson?”

“Yes, that’s it! He said it was made by him personally, so…” Alyssa trailed off again as she realized that Emma was gaping at her. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Emma blurted suddenly, which she looked embarrassed by but it made Alyssa’s pulse jump.

“Yes,” Alyssa breathed, nodding eagerly. “Please.”

Emma did not have to be told twice, pulling Alyssa in without hesitation and giving her a searing kiss that made Alyssa’s head spin but also ended too quickly as she pulled away. “You’re… wonderful, Alyssa Greene,” she said with such sincerity as she looked into Alyssa’s eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Nor I, you.” With that, Alyssa was leaning forward for another kiss, her hands settling on Emma’s upper arms, which were soft but also surprisingly well-built. Being in those arms was the first time in maybe her whole life that Alyssa had felt safe. Protected. Treasured.

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed against Alyssa’s lips before she pulled away. “As much fun as this is, if I don’t get my hands on that beauty right there,” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the guitar. “I _ will _die.”

Alyssa bit her lip, pretending to consider that for a moment. “But what a way to go?” she mused with a huff of laughter. Then she stole one more kiss before pulling away and sitting back on the settee, motioning for Emma to proceed abandoning her for the chunk of wood.

Emma took the guitar so gingerly out of its case as if she might break it, but the moment it was in her hands, she was grinning like a child set loose in a candy store. She ran her hands along the finely finished wood and strummed it, making a sort of giddy sound in the back of her throat when she realized it was already in tune. Then she played the beginning of the melody to what Alyssa recognized as “Musetta’s Waltz.”

“_ La bohème? _I didn’t take you for a fan of the opera,” Alyssa noted as Emma blushed.

“Well, it’s sort of a relatable story. _ Not _the whole tuberculosis thing, hopefully, but you know, the struggles of the starving artists.” Emma shrugged.

“My father took me to see it in Vienna when I was a girl. I thought it would be boring, but I loved it. I had the music in my head for days and my dance instructor had a hell of a time with me.” Alyssa smiled at the memory. She hadn’t spent much time with her father growing up, but that trip to Vienna always stuck out to her. 

Her mother’s sister had been living there with her husband, a military man of some kind, and was expecting a baby. It was one of the only trips Alyssa can think of that they went on and it didn’t involve a single business dealing.

On the night Alyssa’s aunt went into labor, her father needed any excuse to get his 8-year-old daughter out of the house and the opera was perfect. Honestly, they could have done anything, but Alyssa remembered taking great pride in dressing her best and walking arm-in-arm with her father to their seats like a proper lady.

She didn’t understand exactly what the performers were singing about at the time, but she remembered the way everyone on stage seemed so free and full of life. She just wanted to be like them.

It was at this moment that Alyssa realized that she’d already begun the process of kicking off her shoes. She got up and motioned for Emma to continue playing. After a few moments of stretching out her legs, Alyssa moved her feet into first position, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she let years of training and muscle memory take over. She moved through all five starting positions with her feet, rotating through each of the three Port de Bras positions with her arms as well.

Once she was satisfied that her brain and her body actually remembered what to do, Alyssa began extending her movements from a simple tendu into arabesques and battements, and several improvised pirouettes and leaps. Within minutes, it was as if she’d never stopped rehearsing the moves in her head, even if her muscles did smart a little at being somewhat out of practice.

As Emma finished the song, Alyssa kept spinning and couldn’t contain the joyous laughter that bubbled up from deep within her chest. She eventually got too dizzy and lost her balance, stumbling off to the side a bit, but she kept giggling, hands coming up to wipe the happy tears from her eyes.

“Wow,” Emma sighed, and Alyssa turned to see her staring captivated at her. “I didn’t know you could, uh… move like that. I mean, obviously I saw you dance last night, but-”

“But I’m sober now?” Alyssa asked with a cocked eyebrow. She laughed as Emma sputtered to come up with a response. “No, I just needed the right song.”

Emma ran a nervous hand through her hair. “Well, I’m glad to have provided you with that.”

“Believe me, Emma. You have provided me with so much more than a song.” Alyssa sat back down on the settee, taking Emma’s hand in her own and bringing it to her lips. “When we met the other night, I was… at the end of my rope. Every part of my life for as long as I can remember has been built on lie after lie, and you-- you are the first person to see the real me.”

“Am I the first woman you’ve ever...?” Emma asked, somehow without a bit of judgment or shyness to her tone, even if she didn’t seem to know how to finish the question.

“I’ve known I fancy women for a while now,” Alyssa began haltingly. She looked down at Emma’s hand as she traced a fingertip over the lines on Emma’s palm. “But my mother has known since I was quite young, I think. Looking back on it, I was stupidly obvious about it, even if I didn’t realize what it all meant. I had the most embarrassing crush on Madeleine, actually--”

“The pregnant one married to the old guy?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Alyssa admitted with a small laugh. “We’ve been friends since we were toddlers. But I was probably around nine or so when I said something that actually caused my mother to snap. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something about how pretty Madeleine was and that she smelled so much nicer than boys did, and how I thought I might want to marry someone like her when I was older…”

Alyssa swallowed hard at the memory, absentmindedly reaching up to touch her cheek. “She slapped me. I was so confused and in shock that I didn’t even cry at first. She had never struck me before, and I couldn’t really understand what I’d done or said wrong. But then she was berating me about how I was never supposed to talk like that about girls ever again… that girls get sent away for that kind of thing.”

Feeling a soft touch to the back of her hand, Alyssa glanced up to see Emma studying her closely. She gently pulled Alyssa’s hand to the side, her eyes narrowing at what Alyssa was sure was a partially visible bit of reddened skin. Emma looked like she was about to say something, but Alyssa cut her off.

“Anyway, I… I kept quiet after that. I tried to deny that part of myself even though it was becoming increasingly clearer to me as I got older. I was able to sneak some books past my mother from time to time, and last summer while I was in Paris… well, I told her I was going to the opera when really I went to see a burlesque show. I was… I just wanted to be able to…” Alyssa frowned and let out a sigh as she fumbled to explain herself without it sounding embarrassing.

“You just wanted to be able to look at a woman without people judging you for it?” Emma offered, her voice gentle and not at all judgmental.

“Yeah, exactly,” Alyssa whispered, nodding as she met Emma’s eyes again. “And I knew before then how much I preferred women emotionally and, to a certain extent, physically, but this was… different. I guess that was when it finally settled in my mind that this was all _ real _ and a part of me, and it wasn’t going away. Everything people talked about when it came to romance and desire or whathaveyou… for me, that could only be with women. Even if it realistically could never happen.”

Emma was silent for several seconds as she simply regarded Alyssa with a warm but curious smile, then she said, “Am I the first person you’ve ever told?”

“I…” Alyssa let out a surprised laugh. “Yes, I think so.” Her throat suddenly felt thick, like she might cry again, so she cleared her throat and waved a hand in front of her face to fight off the tears. “Thank you for listening to all of that. And to answer what was perhaps the other part of your question… yes, you’re the first woman I’ve ever actually... pursued anything with.”

Emma chuckled and held a hand over her heart. “Well, I’m honored, truly. And you’re welcome. You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge. Believe me, I know what that’s like.”

Alyssa chewed on her bottom lip, her own curiosity at Emma’s love life screaming at her to get answers. “What about you?”

Emma laughed like nobody had ever thought to ask her about that before. Or at least, not in a long time. “Well, I think a part of me always knew, and my folks knew ever since my dad caught me with the neighbor girl in our barn. He really got me for that one. Went right past having me fetch a switch and used his belt...” She shook her head, as if trying to forget it ever happened. “I went to live with my grandma after that, and then my parents died in a fire. The neighbor girl’s dad, he really had it out for me for ‘corrupting his daughter,’ so he spread a rumor that I started the fire. Which, I didn’t, but one look at me and the town already saw a deviant, so I left.” She looked at Alyssa as if she anticipated her getting up and leaving any second now.

“Did you love her?” Alyssa asked, surprising even herself considering she had about a million things to ask regarding that story, but this was the one detail she just had to know.

“Who?”

“The neighbor girl.”

“Ruby,” Emma said, then considered Alyssa’s question for a moment. “In a way, yes. She was my first kiss, my first dance, my first… well, everything, I guess.”

As illogical as it was, Alyssa found herself becoming increasingly jealous of this _ Ruby _.

Emma didn’t seem too keen to linger on her memory, though. “And you already know about Genevieve, so… things were pretty relaxed around Montmartre, anyway. People already make assumptions about me everywhere else, but there it was like people weren’t necessarily _ afraid _ of it.”

“It must be nice not having someone watching your every move and commenting on it,” Alyssa said with a far-off sigh.

“Oh, Kevin does plenty. Has ever since we met in New York a couple of years back. But it’s fine because he does his own share of dumb shit that I get to haul him over the coals for, too.” Emma smiled fondly. “And for what it’s worth, we’ve never actually had a discussion about my liking women. It’s just something he knows is true and he accepts it, which is the best thing I could ask for.”

“He seems nice. Shelby definitely likes him,” Alyssa said. Emma gave her a look that said she was all too aware of that fact, and they both giggled.

A silence settled between them that wasn’t exactly awkward, but nor was it totally comfortable. Unsure of how best to deal with whatever tension was in the air, Alyssa reached for Emma’s new guitar, carefully pulling it up into her lap and trying to arrange her fingers into one of the chords Emma had shown her the night before. She strummed once, but even to her untrained ear, it sounded off. Pressing down a little harder and adjusting her wrist, she strummed again and something resembling a note came out.

“I did it!” Her eyes shot up to look at Emma, beaming. “At least, I think I did.”

“You did,” Emma said, nodding. There was a kind of knowing grin on her face, but it was laced with so much affection that Alyssa found herself blushing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Alyssa couldn’t help asking.

“I uh… I’m sorry, if it’s bothering you, I can…” Emma fidgeted uncertainly and she tried to look anywhere else.  
“No, no, I… I like the way you look at me,” Alyssa said sincerely, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Emma’s knee. When their eyes met again, Alyssa smiled warmly and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that question. It was just me being too curious for my own good again, as my mother says.”

Emma frowned for a second and then placed her hand over Alyssa’s, brushing her thumb back and forth across her knuckles as the frown softened back out into the same affectionate smile from before. “I was looking at you like that because I meant what I said earlier. I’ve never met anyone like you, Alyssa. You’re extraordinary and I… I don’t think there’s any other way I _ could _look at you, and-”

Alyssa leaned in close, making Emma’s breath hitch in her throat. “Emma?” she asked sweetly.

“Hmm?”

“You talk too much,” Alyssa murmured just as she closed the remaining distance and kissed her ardently. 

* * *

“This is such a bad idea,” Emma muttered quietly to herself as she swayed back and forth impatiently near the bow of the ship. Alyssa had been gone maybe ten minutes, but she couldn’t help but run through several scenarios in her mind involving her getting caught and causing Emma to incur the wrath of the angry fiance and his rather large valet. But the alternative, that Alyssa could manage to find them some food to eat together under the stars, was just too enticing of a plan to not at least attempt it.

“Did she stand you up, Loverboy?” One of the infuriating lookouts shouted down to her.

“I am not a boy and I think both of you know that!” Emma yelled back.

“You hear somethin’ bruv? Sounds like a lil boy what’s mad that his lady don’t like his kissing!”

“It’s sad, innit?”

“No, what’s gonna be sad is your face when I climb up there and throw your asses overboard!”

“Oy! Keep it down! What are ya, mad? Tryin’ to distract upstandin’ White Star Line employees like ourselves while we’re workin’!”

Emma was just in the process of hurling several profanity-laden insults back at them when she heard someone clear their throat. Her face went pale as she turned around to see Alyssa standing there with a picnic basket, looking torn between bursting into laughter and checking Emma for a concussion.

“Maybe we should… under the crow’s nest again?” Alyssa nodded in the direction of the mast and Emma nodded sheepishly, trying to ignore the blush that was burning her cheeks and the tips of her ears.

Annoying lookouts notwithstanding, Emma couldn’t remember a better day than the one she was currently having. She and Alyssa had spent all afternoon talking, playing guitar, dancing, and kissing. Now they were about to have a picnic under the stars on the grandest ship in the world. If Emma was dreaming, she sincerely hoped no one ever woke her up.

“Sooo… what did you get?” Emma asked curiously, moving to peek inside the basket as Alyssa laid down a blanket on the deck.

Alyssa lightly smacked Emma’s hand away from the basket. “Just a variety of things I thought you might enjoy,” she said coyly.

Emma snorted playfully and rolled her eyes, briefly considering telling Alyssa that there were certainly a variety of things she _ knew _ she would enjoy, and none of them were in that picnic basket. But she was trying to behave, so instead she kneeled on the blanket while Alyssa finally opened the basket, first producing a small tin of something.

“Didn’t know your type liked canned food,” Emma said, confused as Alyssa also pulled out some crackers.

“This is beluga caviar, Emma.” She gestured with the can for emphasis.

“I think I might pass.” Emma scrunched up her nose and waved it away.

“I know you haven’t tried it.”

“No, but I know it’s just expensive fish eggs and something about that doesn’t quite appeal to me.”

“The entire appeal of caviar is that it’s expensive fish eggs.” Alyssa rolled her eyes and scooped some of it onto a cracker with a fancy little spoon. “Here, just try some and if you don't like it, you can spit it out."

Alyssa held the cracker out just in front of Emma's mouth, her own bordering on a pout as she gave Emma the most effective puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. Emma relented easily, letting Alyssa feed her the caviar, which probably would have been enough to convince her on its own.

Immediately, Emma decided that she didn't like caviar. The taste wasn't so bad, but the consistency was a dealbreaker. She swallowed it down, though, and sent a weak smile in Alyssa's direction afterwards.

"That's a 'no' on the caviar, then?" Alyssa asked, lips twitching into a wry smile.

"Yeah, sorry. I guess I'm just not meant to be fancy. But hey, more for you!"

"More for me? Oh no, I _ hate _ caviar!" She shuddered and made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

"You _ what?! _" Emma glared at her. "Then what was the big deal with making me try it?"

Alyssa lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug. "I just wanted you to have the full first-class experience," she said with a faux-innocent expression, which quickly turned into a smug smile. "Or I just wanted to see the look on your face when you tried it. Stealing expensive, nasty food from a bunch of snooty jerks was also a bonus."

"I honestly don't know whether to be hurt or impressed," Emma said as she pretended to ponder her options. "I guess I can let it slide so long as you take a big ol' bite, too!"

Scooping up the spoon with a hefty amount of caviar in it, Emma waved it in front of Alyssa's face. Alyssa jerked her head back and shook it fiercely, giggling even as she scolded Emma to get it away from her.

"Come on, it's only fair!"

"Noooo stop, it's so gross! Emma!"

Emma managed to wind an arm around Alyssa's waist, pulling her over into her lap to keep her from squirming away further. But as she did, Alyssa had enough wherewithal to reach out and knock the spoon out of Emma's hand, sending it flying several feet. 

"Aha!" Alyssa shouted in victory, holding her head up proudly.

"Now that wasn't very dignified," Emma chided.

"Yes, well, I am in a beautiful woman's lap right now." Alyssa tapped Emma lightly on the nose. "Dignity can go straight to hell." 

Emma was seconds away from forgetting why they were even out on the deck with a picnic basket in the first place when she heard footsteps and whistling coming around the walkway. Just as they turned to see who the intruder was, he spotted them as well.

"Oh! Well good evening, ladies!" His smile was casual and friendly but oblivious. After a slight hesitation, Emma recognized him as the officer who called her a 'hero' after the incident the other night and suggested Greg reward her. Trent something?

"Evening, sir," Alyssa replied politely, easing off Emma's lap.

"It's certainly a marvelous night for a picnic. Just don't let those two buffoons from the watchtower spot you down here. I'd rather listen to seagulls scream all day than listen to them talk for even a minute. Some people just don't know when to shut up. You ever notice that?"

He glanced at the both of them then, who looked at each other and then back at him. Sensing the awkwardness, he cleared his throat and made to continue on with his patrol. "Anyway, I better be getting on. You two take care. Always good to see gals bein' pals!"

Once he was out of sight, Emma felt Alyssa relax at her side. As she began to process the situation, Emma couldn't help but start to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Alyssa asked.

"If the rest of the world were as oblivious as the people working on this ship, we wouldn't have anything to worry about." Emma stopped to catch her breath and wipe her eyes.

Alyssa shook her head, but laughed as well. "You're ridiculous, Emma Nolan."

With the moment spoiled by that interruption, Alyssa set about unpacking the rest of their dinner. She had liberated some roast duckling with applesauce, potatoes, asparagus, and chocolate eclairs. She also managed to abscond with a bottle of wine.

"How were you able to get all of this?" Emma asked, amazed.

"I wish I could say I'm an expert thief or something exciting like that, but all I really did was ask the kitchen to make me a picnic basket. They know who I am so they didn't question it."

"Huh. Well you may not be an expert thief but your skills at sneaking around are still incredibly impressive. I haven't seen anyone from your circle all day."

"Ah well, really they're just predictable. Boring people of habit. I just go places I know they would never go or wouldn't be at that time." Alyssa shrugged as she took a bite of her food.

"Pretty _ and smart? _Come on, this just isn't fair!" Emma put a hand over her heart dramatically and Alyssa rolled her eyes as she swatted at her arm halfheartedly.

They stayed there on the deck long after they had finished their meal, leaning back and looking at the sky either in comfortable silence or as they chatted about random topics. Eventually it got cold enough that they both knew they needed to go inside, and as loathe as they were to admit it, Alyssa had to return to her suite before she roused suspicion.

Emma walked her as far as the First Class Entrance, their fingers laced lightly together between them as they walked.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Emma asked hopefully.

"Bet on it," Alyssa answered.

Looking around quickly to make sure they were alone, Emma leaned in to give Alyssa a brief but sweet goodnight kiss. They both lingered for a few seconds, hesitant to pull back and end their night together. When Emma's eyes fluttered back open, she saw Alyssa's do the same, and she knew she would dream about the look in Alyssa’s eyes that night.

"Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight, Alyssa."

She waited until Alyssa had gone inside before she turned to start her long, lonely journey back to third class. And she spent that whole walk trying to shake the feeling that someone had been watching her as she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took us a while to get this one up! Admittedly, writing wholly original content for something as iconic as Titanic is a bit daunting lol. Kelsey is in Las Vegas this week, but hopefully we will get the next chapter up a bit more quickly since we're veering back onto the main timeline now!  
Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed!! As always, feel free to shout at us in the comments. We love you guys!


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be angst ahead for most of this chapter, folks!  
Sorry, but if you've seen the movie, you know there's a reason and it leads to something good!  
We hope y'all enjoy and, as always, feel free to yell at us in the comments. We try to reply to all of them.

_ I remember how calm the water was the next morning. They say that calm waters mean a storm is surely coming, so I should have known better. _

Alyssa couldn’t recall the last time she had woken up with a smile on her face, but on the morning of April 14, 1912, she was grinning from ear to ear at the canopy above her bed. The previous night with Emma seemed like it belonged in an _ exceptionally _ good dream, but it was something that had _ actually _ happened. And just thinking about it again had her stomach all aflutter in such a way that she felt like she was 8 years old and hopelessly infatuated with her best friend again. But this was so different from a schoolgirl crush, and so much better because Emma returned her feelings. It was the most real connection Alyssa had ever made with anyone, and she never wanted to let it go.

She got up from the bed and stretched out leisurely in her nightgown with a sighing yawn. She was tying her robe at her waist as she made her way to the nearest window, unlatching it and letting in the cool sea breeze. Just three days ago, she’d been suffocating, and now she could finally breathe.

“Good morning, Miss Greene,” Kaylee greeted her cheerfully as she entered the room with a small knock on the door. “How did you sleep last night?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked. If anyone were to know exactly how late Alyssa had gotten in last night, it would be her and Shelby.

“Oh, marvelously, actually. I think the fresh sea air has done me a lot of good.”

“Are you sure it’s just the sea air?” Kaylee went about getting a dress laid on the bed for Alyssa. “That girl you’ve gotten close with, she’s… definitely a breath of fresh air in her own right.”

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” Alyssa smiled to herself at the memory of Emma’s lips on hers as she removed her robe and began to get dressed for the morning with Kaylee’s mostly unneeded assistance.

“And not to put a damper on your good mood, but I do believe Mr. Hockley is expecting you to have breakfast with him out on the promenade.”

It was at that moment that Alyssa realized she’d quite forgotten her fiance even existed. It was jarring, being brought so abruptly back to a reality in which she was still expected to put on a good face for people who didn’t even remotely deserve it.

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Kaylee.”

A good face was easier said than done as Alyssa made a feeble attempt to eat anything besides a few pieces of fruit and some coffee while a palpable tension hung over her and Greg at the breakfast table on the promenade deck. Neither one of them had even exchanged so much as a ‘Good morning’ by the time Shelby was coming around to refill their coffee cups and Greg cleared his throat to speak.

“I had hoped you would come to me last night,” he said once Shelby went back inside the suite.

Alyssa could barely contain her shudder at the notion. She couldn’t very well say that she hardly remembered Greg existed last night because her mind and affections were elsewhere. So she gave the most feasible excuse she could think of.

“I was tired,” she said, shooting him what she hoped passed as an apologetic smile over the rim of her cup.

“Yes, your exertions below decks and beneath the stars, with your new steerage pet the past two days were no doubt exhausting.” His voice was casual, but the look in his eyes was cold and accusatory as he stared Alyssa down.

She stiffened but tried to maintain her composure even as she had to look away. It was hard to look into the eyes of someone you were technically betraying, even if you felt no guilt or affection for the person. There was no use denying his accusations, at any rate. They were true and Alyssa was fairly certain how he knew.

“I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me,” she said as she set her cup down. “How typical.”

Greg’s cool demeanor immediately cracked to show his agitation. “You will never behave like that again, Alyssa,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Do you understand?”

Alyssa drew in a deep breath, her temper flaring at being so blatantly ordered about. She sat there for a few seconds, mulling over how exactly she wanted to continue this discussion. Obviously, Greg wanted her to be simpering and obedient, but that wasn’t who she was, nor was it who she ever planned on being. He needed to understand that.

“I’m not a foreman in one of your mills that you can command.” Alyssa met his gaze directly, jaw set. “I’m your fiancee.”

Greg looked at her in disbelief for a brief moment. “My fiancee? M-my fiancee?!” Suddenly he was shooting to his feet, exploding in anger and knocking most of the china off the table with a crash. “Yes, you are. And my _ wife! _” 

He jerked the table to the side, sending it toppling over so that it was no longer between them. Alyssa shrunk back in her chair as he crossed to her in one shocking movement, glowering over her and gripping the sides of her chair so she had no way of escaping.

“My wife in practice, if not yet by law,” he continued, his face scant inches away from hers. “So you will honor me. You will honor me as a wife is required to honor her husband. I will not be made out a fool, Alyssa. Is that in any way unclear?”

Alyssa nodded her understanding, simultaneously frozen in shock and shaking with fear. Her wide eyes caught a glimpse of Shelby as she appeared at the doorway, then froze herself before coming any further. Greg followed Alyssa’s gaze and straightened up, stalking past Shelby into the suite and barking an order for her to clean up the mess.

As soon as he was through the doors, Alyssa felt herself slide down and crumple onto her knees on the floor. Shelby was at her side instantly, arm around her shoulder and handkerchief extended in an offering to help dry the tears Alyssa didn’t realize were already falling.

“We… we had a little accident. I’m sorry, Shelby.” Alyssa hated how her voice was quivering. She attempted to pick up some of the broken china, but she was shaking too badly.

“It’s alright, Alyssa.” Shelby took the shards from Alyssa and set them aside before pulling her in for a hug. “It’s alright.”

The simple gesture of kindness was what finally brought Alyssa to full-on sobs, her heartbeat still roaring in her ears loud enough to drown out the sound of her shuddering breaths. As much as she hated every tear she shed over this, she hated Greg even more. He didn’t own her, and she hoped to make him face that fact very soon.

An hour or so later, Alyssa was in her room dressing more formally for the Sunday service, Shelby helping her dutifully with her corset. She was almost completely done lacing Alyssa up when Veronica barged in and shooed Shelby out the door. When Alyssa looked to her mother questioningly, expecting her to begin a conversation, Veronica merely indicated that she turn around so she could finish the job that Shelby had started.

Alyssa turned back around obediently and put her hands on the bedpost, grunting uncomfortably as her mother tugged harder than necessary on the corset strings. Obviously, whatever Veronica was up to, she meant serious business.

“You’re not to see that girl again, do you understand me?” 

Alyssa simply rolled her eyes where her mother couldn’t see. At Alyssa’s silence, Veronica continued more sternly. “Alyssa, I forbid it.”

“Oh, stop it, Mother. You’ll give yourself a nosebleed.” The words were out before Alyssa could stop them, and then she was being jerked around to face her mother.

“This is not a game,” Veronica hissed. “Our situation is precarious. You know the money’s gone.”

“Of course I know it’s gone. You remind me every day.”

“Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play.” Alyssa must have shown how fed up she was with this same spiel on her face because Veronica’s almost desperate expression turned to one of irritation and consternation. “I don’t understand you. It is a fine match with Greg. It will ensure our survival.”

Unable to hide the hurt at her future and happiness being treated like a business transaction any longer, Alyssa lashed out. “How can you put this on my shoulders?!”

“Why are you being so selfish?” Veronica snapped back.

“_ I’m _being selfish?” Alyssa challenged. 

Veronica’s expression shifted again, back to desperation and what Alyssa realized was actual fear. Coming from a woman who hardly showed an emotion that was not calculated, that was saying something. Though Alyssa wasn’t naive enough to believe this wasn’t also partially manipulation. She knew her mother too well for that.

“Do you want to see me working as a seamstress?” Veronica choked out, turning on the daintiest version of waterworks possible. “Is that what you want? To see our fine things sold at auction, our memories scattered to the winds?” The last word was almost lost on a sob as Veronica covered her mouth and turned her head away, the thought apparently too much to bear.

As much as Alyssa was loathe to admit it, her mother, behind the dramatics, had a point. The nice things, Alyssa could frankly do without. But the world Emma had been describing to her? Those hardships were completely alien. With freedom also came uncertainty, instability. The romantic in her wanted to push those thoughts aside, but she knew better than to think that at the end of the day neither of those things mattered. But more than that, she knew that even if she herself could deal with those things, her mother absolutely could not.

“It’s so unfair,” Alyssa said more to herself than her mother as the realization washed over her that this unwanted life was the one she would always be expected and destined to live.

Her mother sighed and turned back around to face her. “Of course it’s unfair; we’re women. Our choices are never easy.” She pulled Alyssa in for an embrace, not unlike those she would give to soothe her temper tantrums as a child. She kissed her cheek, but Alyssa couldn’t bring herself to react, and then she was being turned back around, allowing her mother to finish lacing her corset, each tightening pull feeling as if it was squeezing so much more than just the breath out of her.

* * *

“Tell me something, Emma. Why is it that the rich folk get a church service and all we get below deck is one Catholic priest?” Kevin asked, playing lookout while he and Emma waited for an opportunity for her to make her way to the makeshift chapel. The plan was half-baked at best, but she was eager to see Alyssa again after the previous night, and she’d had an easy enough time sneaking away before.

“My grandma says that the people who’re supposed to be the most committed to God are the ones who have the most to ask forgiveness for every Sunday,” Emma said, craning her neck to see the crewman in charge of the door walk off to the side of the ship with a cigarette and lighter.

“Go, go, go!” Kevin whispered and all but shoved Emma in the direction of the first-class entrance. She stumbled out onto the deck, regaining her balance and giving Kevin the middle finger before turning to go inside.

Being back there in the light of day felt entirely different as she bound down the huge staircase to the dining room, passing by the ship’s builder and his wife as she went.

“Hello, Mr. Hawkins. Ms. Allen,” she greeted them with a tip of her newsboy cap.

The couple regarded her with some confusion but smiled politely.

“Hello, Emma,” Hawkins replied, and Emma was on her way again, making it to the door of the dining room where the service was being held. 

From a window, she could see the captain himself leading the first-class congregation in a hymn she thought she remembered her grandmother humming from time to time. She got up onto her toes to see over the group, spotting Alyssa’s mother’s red hair near the front before spotting Alyssa beside her.

And then a hand was on her shoulder, pulling her away from the door.

“Look, you. You’re not supposed to be here,” a steward said haughtily, regarding her borrowed clothes down to her own well-worn shoes.

“I just need to talk to somebody,” Emma insisted, trying to push past the man who was intent on keeping her away from the door, his objections getting less polite by the second.

“I was just here the other night, don’t you remember?” Emma tried to remind the steward, who was having none of it as the door opened and out walked Greg Hockley’s goon, Lovejoy. “He’ll tell you,” she said, nodding in the valet’s direction.

Lovejoy towered over her, expressionless. “Mr. Hockley and Mrs. Greene continue to be appreciative of your assistance. They asked me to give you this in gratitude-” He held up a wad of cash that Emma couldn’t help but scoff at.

“I don’t want your money, I just-”

“-And _ also _to remind you that you hold a third-class ticket and your presence here is... no longer appropriate.”

Emma bit her lip and tried not to lose her temper, but Lovejoy’s attitude toward her was making that difficult. “Please, I just need to talk to Alyssa for a-”

Lovejoy split the money two ways and handed it to the steward and another White Star Line employee who’d come after the commotion. “Gentleman, please see that Ms. Nolan gets back where she belongs. And that she stays there.”

The men took the money without hesitation, shoving it into their pockets.

“Yes, Sir,” the steward said dutifully and he not-so-gently grabbed Emma by one arm while the other crewman got the other. “Come along, you,” he said in an infuriatingly chipper voice as the two of them all but dragged Emma out.

If Emma were smart, and maybe not so stubborn, she may have listened to Lovejoy. But then again, she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d ever been particularly appropriate, and it seemed like an odd time to start now. This is why after lunch, she found herself once again heading back up to the first-class deck, more determined than ever, but also well aware that this would not be so easy.

Naturally, Nick, Kevin, and Jules had to follow her to see how this latest plan would play out, but nobody voiced any objections until they’d climbed over the gate separating the third class deck from second.

“She’s a goddess among mortal men, there’s no denying. But she’s in another world, Em; forget her. She closed the door,” Nick said when he realized that Emma was regarding the wall up to A Deck, looking for a place to climb up.

Emma shook her head, refusing to believe that any of this was Alyssa’s doing. Not after how they’d left things the night before. “It was them, not her.” She looked around for anyone who might catch her before turning to Jules. “Mind giving me a boost?” she asked as she took off her cap and put it on Nick’s head for safe keeping.

“She’s not being logical!” Nick said as Jules shrugged and knelt down, cupping his hands for Emma to step up onto.

“Ah, but love isn’t logical!” Kevin said with a laugh, getting behind Emma for safety in case she was to fall backward, but Emma was able to nimbly climb up and over the railing to the first-class deck, where all the people were going about their business as usual in their Sunday best.

She looked down at herself and realized that wearing the same clothes from earlier would make her too easy to spot. Glancing around quickly, she spied a man’s abandoned wool coat and tophat on a deck chair. Without thinking twice, she was grabbing them and putting them on, hoping she could pass as a very short gentleman with ill-fitting clothes just long enough to find Alyssa.

* * *

The tour Mr. Hawkins had agreed to give their group was barely distracting enough to keep Alyssa’s mind from wandering to more wistful places, but she dug her metaphorical heels in and focused her attention on every detail and tidbit he could provide. She found the bridge to be at least mildly interesting, at any rate, and Captain Smith was even there to answer questions as well.

“Why do you have two steering wheels?” Veronica asked.

“We really only use this one near shore,” Mr. Hawkins explained, gesturing to one of them.

Just then, a young man hustled in and headed straight to Captain Smith, handing him a piece of paper. “Excuse me, Sir. It’s another ice warning. This one’s from the _ Noordam _.”

“Thank you, Sparks.” The Captain glanced down at the note before nonchalantly putting it in his pocket. He then looked up and nodded reassuringly at the whole group. “Not to worry, it’s quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we’re speeding up! I’ve just ordered the last boilers lit.”

Mr. Hawkins scowled slightly at that but said nothing. He just motioned the group towards the door. As they were exiting, another man came out of the chartroom and Alyssa heard him ask one of the officers at the bridge, “Did we ever find those binoculars for the lookouts?”

The officer shook his head, sighing. “Haven’t seen them since Southampton. No telling what those idiots did with them.”

Alyssa didn’t know whether to bite back a smile or a mournful sigh as she remembered her previous encounters with the lookouts and whom she had been with both of those times. Shaking her head to try and rid herself of the thoughts, she tuned back in to what Hawkins was saying about safety measures and such. 

As they continued along the boat deck, something about what he was explaining about the number of lifeboats seemed weirdly unbalanced to her. She had been paying closer attention to all of the numbers he was reciting than she normally would in an effort to distract herself, so she began running the numbers in her head, frowning as she came to a sudden realization.

“Mr. Hawkins,” she said as she moved to walk beside him ahead of the group. “I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned… forgive me, but it seems that there aren’t enough for everyone aboard.”

“About half, actually.” The group came to a stop and he turned to her, regarding her as if thoroughly impressed. “Alyssa, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here.” He turned to motion along a section of the deck. “But it was thought… _ by some _… that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was overruled.”

“Waste of deck space as it is on an unsinkable ship!” Greg proclaimed with a slap to the side of one of the lifeboats as he and Veronica continued on past Alyssa and Hawkins.

“Sleep soundly, Alyssa. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She’s all the lifeboat you need.” With that, he was pressing on ahead of her, shouting out to Greg and Veronica, “Just keep heading aft! The next stop will be the engine room!”

Alyssa hung back for a second, still feeling doubtful about everything she had just been told. That was all it took for someone to reach out and place a hand on her arm, startling her until she turned to see that it was Emma, who had apparently been leaning against the railing by the lifeboats. She had on an absurdly large wool overcoat and a tophat, and was motioning for Alyssa to follow her to one of the doors to their right.

Alyssa hesitated momentarily, glancing back at her tour group and seeing that they had already made it several yards ahead of her and had yet to look back. She could so easily slip through that door with Emma, and it was what she truly wanted more than anything. But she had made her decision… she had been foolish to think there could ever be a future with Emma, no matter how badly she wanted there to be. Still, they couldn’t just stand out here in the open; they would both get in trouble. 

She let Emma lead her to the door and they both ducked inside to what Alyssa recognized as one of the gymnasium rooms her group had toured earlier. It was currently unoccupied, and the glass to the outside was rippled so the view to the inside was partially obstructed. They were quite alone.

Taking a few steps inside while Emma closed the door, Alyssa drew in a deep breath to steel herself for what she knew she had to do. Her resolve faltered slightly when she turned around and saw Emma standing there looking equal parts unsure and so earnest as she reached up to take the hat off of her head.

Emma moved forward into her space slowly, as if testing to see if Alyssa was going to bolt or not. Alyssa could practically feel the confusion radiating off of Emma, and when she tentatively leaned in to kiss her, Alyssa barely had the presence of mind to turn her head away, redirecting Emma’s lips to her cheek.

It was as if the weight of the world suddenly came to rest on Emma’s shoulders with how they seemed to slump, her confusion giving way to realization and sadness that Alyssa knew was there. But she couldn’t bring herself to look up and see it in those soft eyes that had so quickly began to feel like home. 

Swallowing thickly, Alyssa forced herself to put some distance between them, pulling back and stepping a few feet in the direction of the door as she said, “Emma, this is impossible. I… I can’t see you.”

Emma’s hand found its place on her arm again, turning Alyssa to face her, even though she still refused to meet Emma’s gaze. Emma noticed this, too, because then she was reaching out to lightly brush her thumb against Alyssa’s cheek, a finger curling down to hook under her chin. A silent plea, and one Alyssa knew Emma deserved. She let herself look at Emma finally, and all she could do was pray she was strong enough.

“What happened?” Emma asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Emma… I’m engaged. I’m marrying Greg. It’s… better for everyone this way. This is how the world works, and I’m sorry I dragged you into my mess. I wish you all the best, but I should really go.” Saying those words was one of the hardest things Alyssa had ever done. She knew she would be breaking her own heart by saying them, but it was the crestfallen look on Emma’s face that made it almost unbearable.

Emma was silent for a few torturous seconds, the muscles in her throat working against the tears that were already beginning to fall. Alyssa started to head for the door, unable to watch and unwilling to start crying as well, but then Emma was catching her arm again.

“C-can I please say something?” Emma stuttered. Now she was the one staring resolutely at the floor, bracing herself for whatever it was she so obviously had to say. She was being very brave, braver than Alyssa could ever dream to be, and Alyssa owed it to Emma to let her say her piece. She turned back to face Emma, leaning her back against the wall by the door and waiting for Emma to continue.

Some small part of Alyssa hoped that maybe Emma would yell at her and tell her how awful she was, so that she would know Emma would get over her and perhaps it would make getting over Emma easier. But Alyssa knew that wouldn’t happen. Emma would never deliberately hurt her, and Alyssa would never be over her.

“Alyssa, you’re no picnic. You’re a spoiled little brat, even,” Emma began, looking back up again with a determined and heartfelt gleam in her eyes. “But under that, you have a strong, pure heart, and you’re the most amazingly astounding girl… woman, that I’ve ever known-”

“Emma, I -”

“No, wait. Let me try to get this out. You’re ama-” Emma shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts again. “I’m not an idiot, okay? I know how the world works. I’m a woman with ten dollars in my pocket. I have nothing to offer you, and I know that. I understand, but I’m too involved now.” 

She stepped closer, her nose barely even an inch away from Alyssa’s as she gazed into her eyes, her hand coming up to touch Alyssa’s cheek so gently. Like she was afraid Alyssa would fly away. “You jump, I jump, remember? I can’t turn away without knowing you’ll be alright. That’s all that I want.”

“You’re making this really hard,” Alyssa choked out, fighting her own tears with all her strength. Emma was so open and real and so unlike anyone else Alyssa had ever known. And above all, she genuinely_ cared. _ If Alyssa didn’t get out of here soon, there was no way she would be able to stick to her guns. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“Really? I don’t think so. _ They’ve _ got you trapped, Alyssa!” Emma pointed in the direction her mother and Greg had been walking earlier. “And you’re going to die if you don’t break free. Maybe not right away because you’re strong, but… sooner or later, that fire that I _ love _ about you, Alyssa… that fire’s gonna burn out.”

Alyssa could no longer fight the tears that sprang to her eyes, her lower lip trembling as she somehow managed to steadily hold Emma’s gaze. Emma was right, but it didn’t matter. Because the world wasn’t built for them to live happily ever after the way they wanted.

“It’s not up to you to save me, Emma,” Alyssa said, because what else was there to say?

“You’re right. Only you can do that.” 

That statement had a sense of finality to it. Emma was telling her that everything was now in Alyssa’s hands. Whatever next move there was to be made, Alyssa had to be the one to make it. Emma was giving her that freedom… that choice. It was all Alyssa ever wanted or needed and yet she still couldn’t have it.

She had to get out of there or else she was going to fall into Emma’s arms and profess her love for her… which, Alyssa was just then realizing was actually the case. She loved Emma. She was _ in love _with this girl whom she had only known a handful of days and yet she had never been more certain of an emotion in her life.

And yet, that changed nothing. If anything, it made it even more imperative that she get out of there.

Reaching up to touch the back of Emma’s hand that was still on her cheek, Alyssa took one final look at the girl she loved, wishing more than anything that wishes on stars actually worked.

“I have to get back; they’ll miss me. Please, Emma, for both our sakes, leave me alone.”

Without another glance or word, Alyssa ducked out of the gymnasium and took off in the direction her group had headed. Her tears dried cold and uncomfortably on her cheeks, and Alyssa let them, once again resigning herself to a similarly intolerable life.

Alyssa wasn’t sure how she’d managed to tolerate seventeen years’ worth of afternoon tea and mindless drivel up to this point, but she’d thankfully come to realize that nobody would notice if she didn’t contribute a thing to the conversation at hand. Even if that conversation was currently centered around her upcoming nuptials.

“Of course the invitations had to be sent back to the printers _ twice. _ And the dreadful bridesmaids’ dresses! Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been…” Veronica shook her head and shuddered in mock horror, but Alyssa knew she would be eating up all this attention with a caviar spoon if she could. “Alyssa decided that she wanted lavender, and she knows I detest the color. She did it to spite me.”

Alyssa may as well have not been sitting right next to her mother with the way she spoke about her. But she simply couldn’t bring herself to care anymore, resigned to a fate of living as nothing but set-dressing. She allowed her eyes to wander around the lounge, first noticing JJ and Madeleine a few tables over, sipping tea and holding hands on the table. 

They were a mismatched couple, Alyssa remembered her mother saying when the news of their engagement first got out. After all, Madeleine was young enough to be his daughter. But even then, Alyssa knew her mother’s disapproval came less from a place of concern for a girl she’d watched grow up with her own child, and more from a place of delight at having something interesting to talk about for the first time in ages.

But Madeleine loved him, and he loved her, and to them, that was worth the ostracization by their friends and the press. Worth the fury of JJ’s children and ex-wife.

Alyssa envied them so. Envied Madeleine’s bravery and JJ’s seemingly endless fortune that was vast enough to make any of his indiscretions forgivable in the long run.

Then her eyes drifted to a table where a young girl, no older than Cora’s age, sat with her mother. Her posture was perfectly straight in her seat, even as her little legs could just barely dangle off the chair. With her mother’s instruction, she folded her napkin expertly in her lap with little gloved hands, only to be scolded the moment she tried to pick up a cookie and then corrected on how she was holding her teacup. The girl’s eyes were searching for approval and praise, and the sight was so sickeningly familiar that after a moment, Alyssa had to look away again.

Seeing that, and then recognizing the parallel between the girl and herself… something about it snapped Alyssa’s world back into focus. She remembered the night she met Emma, and how her mind had spiraled into despair as she imagined the endless parades of formal gatherings and vapid, shallow people. How she would be expected to have Greg’s children and bring them up in the exact same way.

No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do it to herself, and she wouldn’t put another person through it. And she would no longer pretend that any of it was okay. People deserved to find happiness and be themselves, not be forced to fit into a mould.

Why was she responsible for her mother’s future? Her mother did not care about hers and she never had. Nothing Alyssa ever truly wanted mattered to Veronica. Why was family duty suddenly such a big deal?

Emma was right. She had to save herself. Emma, who was happy and completely herself no matter how little money she had or how people looked at her. Emma, who actually cared what happened to Alyssa. Emma, whom Alyssa had just realized she loved. The choice should have been obvious all along, no matter how many unknowns that future would hold. 

Deciding that no hardships she could face with Emma could be worse than even the most mundane of days in a high society Philadelphia drawing-room, Alyssa calmly and deliberately turned her teacup over, spilling tea all over her dress.

“Oh no, look what I’ve done.”

* * *

There was never a time that Emma so wished she had the privilege to be wasteful than when she found herself searching for a new melody on the guitar that she wanted more than anything to throw overboard. (Okay, maybe she didn’t really want to go _ that _ far. It was a Gibson, after all.) But only one melody kept running through her head, and it was the same one that had been stuck there since the day she and Alyssa met. 

Her fingers began strumming the same chords yet again and Emma grumbled under her breath as she let her head thump back against the wall. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, willing herself not to cry again, thinking that maybe she should just go lie down in her bunk rather than mope around the third-class common room and bring everyone’s mood down.

“What’s wrong, Emma?” Emma started as a chipper little voice rang out from surprisingly close to her face. Cora was leaning in and regarding her curiously. Emma must have been obviously distraught because then Cora’s brows furrowed in a confused frown. “Why are you sad?”

Emma sniffled and considered lying to her for just a moment before realizing how pointless that would be. “Um, well, you know my friend Alyssa?”

“The princess,” Cora said with a solemn nod.

Emma laughed, despite herself. “Yes, that one. Well, for a number of reasons that you probably wouldn’t understand, she can’t be my friend anymore. And that makes me sad.”

“Oh…” Cora said, almost confused. “Then why is she coming over here?” She pointed towards the stairwell to the upper decks, which Alyssa had just come down. She looked more than a little unsure of herself as she headed toward Emma.

“Hey kid, do you think you might be able to give us a little privacy?” Emma asked Cora quietly, and the little girl nodded enthusiastically before skedaddling off in the direction of her mother.

Emma set her guitar to the side and stood slowly, wiping her hands nervously on her pants. She and Alyssa had left things pretty much with the understanding that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again unless… no. Emma didn’t dare let her hopes get that high again. She probably just wanted her fancy guitar back.

“Alyssa,” she managed to squeak out once Alyssa was near her. “W-what are you doing here?”

Alyssa looked at her for a moment, her eyes clear and determined and surprisingly warm. Then she was stepping all the way into Emma’s personal space and grabbing her by the front of her shirt. “I changed my mind,” Alyssa said simply before tugging Emma forward and kissing her soundly right there in the middle of the crowded common room for everyone to see.

Emma couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her, echoing several others that erupted around the room, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was that Alyssa Greene was kissing her and seemed to be making a public statement by doing so. She was making her choice, and Emma felt her heart trying to beat out of her chest with happiness at the realization.

After far too brief a kiss for Emma’s liking, Alyssa was pulling back to look at her with wide eyes. She looked a little scared but also excited and happier than Emma thought she’d ever seen her. They stood there just staring at each other for several seconds until someone cleared their throat. Emma didn’t know who; again, she didn’t care to look.

“I… uh…” she laughed and rubbed at the back of her neck. “I don’t suppose you came back for the guitar, then?”

Alyssa laughed and smiled knowingly, that perfect dimple showing as she looped her arms around Emma’s shoulders. “Why would I do that? Who else would play for me while I dance?”

Emma's spirits soared at those words… words that implied a future for the two of them _together_. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or shout for joy, so instead, she settled for pulling Alyssa close and hugging her tightly. They needed to talk, that was for sure. But at that moment, all that mattered to Emma was that she hadn’t lost Alyssa, and now that she had her, she didn’t ever want to let go.

“Um, I hate to interrupt, but we’re about to start setting up for tonight’s activities, and we’re going to need to move all the furniture around, so could you two possibly… move?”

Emma gave the band leader an apologetic smile before grabbing her guitar and heading towards the exit, fingers laced with Alyssa’s the entire time. Kevin gave her a smile and a thumbs up on the way out while Jules rolled his eyes. Emma just continued to grin as they made their way out into the waning evening sun.

“Do you mind if I say something a little bit crazy?” Alyssa asked, stopping to stand in front of Emma, taking both of her hands in her own. She seemed equal parts happy and nervous.

Emma rolled her eyes. After the public display of affection back in the common room, there was very little Alyssa could say that would shock her. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

* * *

* * *

_ That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight. _

“So we’re up to dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours to go,” Billy says aloud from where he’s sitting on the loveseat in what Jen guesses is part of his private quarters.

She hums in agreement as she wanders aimlessly around the room, perusing his collection of artifacts as well as pictures and news articles announcing his various successes.

“I can’t believe Alyssa just walked right up and kissed Emma in front of everyone. That took serious balls!” Billy winces as he realizes what he said. “I mean... well, you know what I mean.”

Jen just laughs. “Yeah, that was Nana Lys. Balls of steel til the very end.”

“And Smith! He’s standing there with the iceberg warning in his fucking hand and he’s ordering more speed!” Billy meanders over to a table containing a bottle of whiskey and some glasses.

“Oh thank God you aren’t a Smith apologist. People who put all the blame on Ismay are completely ignoring the fact that at the end of the day, Smith was in charge and he _ really _shit the bed.” Jen nods when Billy indicates the bottle and he proceeds to pour them each a generous amount into two glasses. She accepts hers with a small grateful smile and takes a cautious sip before discovering that the graverobber does indeed have taste.

“That’s what I always say!” They share a brief look and then Billy is clearing his throat and looking back down at the journal sitting on the loveseat. “You know, 26 years of experience working against him. He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they're going to see in time to turn. But the ship's too big, with too small a rudder... it can't corner worth shit. Everything he knows is wrong.” He tips his drink back and manages to get most of it down. Jen briefly wonders if he’s showing off.

“True,” she says with a small smile and a nod.

“Also, wouldn’t you think they’d have more than one pair of binoculars on a steamer that big? And who gave those idiot lookouts a job? Thank God for the invention of background checks!” Billy finishes his drink and sets the empty glass down next to the bottle as Jen continues to savor hers. The older, academic types she works with all tend to have a fondness for cheap scotch sold in large plastic bottles.

“The first time I read the journal, I kept imagining them as cockney Statler and Waldorf.” Jen giggles.

“Well damn, now I have that image in my head for the rest of eternity. I’ll have to report that in my findings. Captain Smith wasn’t the villain; it was two Muppets.”

“Ha!” Jen rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be the toast of the academic community. Just be sure to cite me as a source.” Something catches her eye as she steps into the light coming from a window to the next room over, and she finds herself curious.

“Is the drawing of… is it still onboard?” She sets her glass down without taking her eyes off the light.

“Huh?” Billy looks up and follows her line of sight. “Oh, the drawing of Alyssa. Yeah, it’s in the lab.”

Jen is trying to hide her eagerness, but judging by the look on Billy’s face, she’s not doing a very good job.

“Would you like to see it?” he asks after a couple of awkward seconds pass between them.

She’s not necessarily keen on letting him have the upper hand with information or something with which to bargain, but Jen figures she still has more than enough leverage to outweigh his.

“Would that be alright?” she asks hopefully.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I shared the picture online and it went viral, so it’s not like it’s some big secret anymore.” Billy fishes some keys out of his coat pocket, leading Jen over and unlocking the door to the next room. He holds it open and ushers Jen inside, indicating a table across the way near what is obviously a workstation.

Jen makes her way over slowly, scarcely believing her own eyes. “It’s… a lot smaller than I thought it would be. But so much more detailed.”

“It’s pretty great, right?” Billy says. “Your great-grandmother made quite the beautiful model. And the artist did a fantastic job.”

“Well yeah, we’ve established Emma was very talented.” Jen looks up to see a slightly bewildered look on Billy’s face and suddenly it dawns on her that he hasn’t connected all the dots yet. She struggles to keep from choking on her own laughter. “Wait… you haven’t figured it out yet? Didn’t you see the portrait was signed ‘EN?’”

Billy waves off her amusement as he tries to explain himself. “Okay, well, I was a bit preoccupied with the discovery of the sketch itself and the necklace and the date!”

“Billy, you’ve literally been reading about Alyssa falling in love with an ARTIST named Emma Nolan for the past several hours! Seriously?!” Jen shakes her head but she can’t help but smile. Clearly, Billy is getting more sidetracked by the story than he wants to admit.

“Alright, alright, we’ve established I’m an idiot.” Billy sighs, then suddenly something seems to click. “But wait! We’re up to just six hours before they hit the ‘berg and so far, no naked portrait drawing. So that means… _ Holy shit! _” 

Jen laughs as his eyes go comically wide and he frantically scrambles back to grab the journal out of his loveseat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Billy is a himbo, confirmed.
> 
> Also ALL ABOARD THE SPICE TRAIN (SHIP?) NEXT CHAPTER, Y'ALL! Prepare for a possible rating change!


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 Long AF Chapter, 2 Iconic Scenes.
> 
> ALSO NSFW WARNING AHEAD Y'ALL!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So umm... hey guys? It's been a while!  
We know it's taken us way too long to update this, and you may have given up hope we'd finish or even forgotten about this fic entirely. (Though we hope not.) But 2020 has been IN-FUCKING-SANE!! For us, not only because of COVID, but because of new jobs and school and different life things.  
Anyway, we hope you're all well and we hope you enjoy a very long and very long-awaited chapter.  
(There is sexual content ahead so if that's not your thing, you've been warned!)  
Thank you guys!!

It felt different -  _ Alyssa felt different _ \- as she led Emma through the hallways of first class towards her own suite. For the first time, Alyssa actually felt like the fighter Emma claimed to have seen in her that day out on the deck when Alyssa discovered her drawings. 

_ Had that really only been two days ago?  _ she thought. Time seemed meaningless when it came to being with Emma. She didn’t think any amount would ever be enough, but it had also taken almost none at all for them to know that what they had was special.

On her way to find Emma and tell her that she changed her mind, Alyssa had formulated a plan. It was more than a little risqué, but it accomplished a few things that Alyssa was quite honestly exhilarated to see come to fruition. 

Since Alyssa first happened upon the drawings in Emma’s folder, her thoughts had constantly found themselves drifting to a scenario in which Emma might draw her in a similar manner. Not only because Alyssa loved the way Emma saw the world and  _ her _ , but because she wanted Emma to be the first person to ever see her that way. Emma’s gaze was so stirring, and Alyssa wanted that gaze on her, Emma’s hands committing whatever beauty she saw to paper. 

This was, of course, accompanied by a dizzying amount of other desires that Emma roused in her. But Alyssa decided that this first step, if Emma agreed to it, would be intimate and meaningful for both of them. Alyssa would finally be free in more ways that one, and Emma would see how serious and committed Alyssa was.

As a bonus, she also wanted to make sure Greg knew that she would never be his, and she wanted to do that by showing him the  _ real _ her - the Alyssa that only Emma saw - and then taking that away forever. Okay, so perhaps the plan was also a little spiteful and underhanded, but she figured she had earned the right to be more than a little petty in this regard.

Emma was completely unaware of any of this as Alyssa opened the door to her and Greg’s suite, letting them both inside and quickly shutting the door behind them. Emma raised her eyebrows in appreciation as she took in her opulent surroundings.

“You sure I’m allowed in here? I might decrease the value of these plush carpets just by standing on them.” She shot Alyssa a playful grin, to which Alyssa rolled her eyes fondly.

“It’s quite proper, I assure you. This is the sitting room.” There was a beat or two of silence while Alyssa mentally prepared herself and Emma continued to study the decor on the other side of the room. Alyssa decided to just ease into it. “Will this light do?”

“What?” Emma asked without even turning around.

“Don’t artists need good light?”

“Zat is true, but I’m not used to working in such ‘orrible conditions!” Emma said with a French accent that was so bad, it was almost good. At the same time, she made a show of wiping imaginary dust off the mantle with disdain, and Alyssa relaxed slightly. 

When Emma turned to look at Alyssa, her eyes fell instead to something just past Alyssa and to her right. “Monet!” she gasped. She rushed forward and knelt in front of the painting, looking over it with open admiration. “Isn’t he great? Look at his use of color! I saw him once… through a hole in his garden fence in Giverny, but still!”

Alyssa bit her lip and chuckled, once again overcome with adoration for the ridiculous yet charming woman in front of her. Emma was quite absorbed in appreciating the collection of art, so Alyssa took that opportunity to head over to the walk-in wardrobe where Greg’s safe was.

“Greg insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere,” she said as she worked the combination.

“Should we be expecting him anytime soon?” Emma asked apprehensively. Her voice was a lot closer than Alyssa had been expecting, and she turned to see Emma had followed her to the door of the wardrobe.

“Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out,” Alyssa assured her. “And Mother has her own suite, so no need to worry about her.” The safe opened with a loud  _ clunk _ and Alyssa removed the box containing Greg’s obnoxiously ostentatious gift from within. Then she opened the box itself and lifted the necklace from its resting place, holding it out for Emma to see.

Emma let out a low whistle as she took it to get a better look. “That’s  _ nice. _ What is it, a sapphire?” She squinted behind her glasses.

“A diamond. A  _ very rare _ diamond.” Alyssa paused a moment as she gathered the courage to make her next request. She bit her lip as her heart hammered in her chest and Emma continued to look at the necklace in awe, completely unaware of what Alyssa was to ask of her. “Emma, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this.” Alyssa indicated the necklace.

Emma nodded, still not looking away from the diamond. “Alright.”

“Wearing…  _ only  _ this.”

Somehow shock, fear, and sheer excitement flashed across Emma’s face all in a matter of seconds as she processed the implications of this. She seemed to almost freeze in place and Alyssa wondered if perhaps she had stopped breathing altogether, but then she was finally turning to look at Alyssa and nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, I can do that. Uh…” She tried to gather her thoughts, waving her free hand near her head while giving the necklace back to Alyssa. “Do you maybe want to go get ready and I’ll… I’ll get settled out here? Or, you know, where you wanted to-”

Alyssa smiled and shook her head, a little amazed at how adorable Emma was when she was flustered. “Out here is perfect.” She leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Once she was in her bedroom with the door closed behind her, Alyssa heard Emma call out from the other side, “Hey, can I move the furniture around a bit?”

“Sure, go crazy. I’m just going to… get naked now, I guess,” Alyssa called back, wincing at her own awkwardness. Her confidence was immediately bolstered, though, by the sound of moving furniture coming to a sudden halt and Emma yelping in alarm.

“I’m okay!”

Taking a few calming breaths, Alyssa went to her vanity and began removing the pins from her hair. It was several minutes of work, but finally, she was able to tug free the ornate butterfly comb that held most of it up. She shook her curls out with her fingers, sighing in relief as they fell past her shoulders. Her mother insisted she wear her hair up the majority of the time, much to Alyssa’s (and her scalp’s) irritation.

_ Will Emma like my hair like this? _ Alyssa wondered. Emma had only seen it up thus far. Well, this was one way to find out. She wanted Emma to see all of her, and her natural hair was part of that.

Alyssa slowly started peeling off each article of clothing, her nervous breathing coming slightly easier once she was free of her corset, but not by much. She shed the rest of her underclothes and finally stood completely nude in front of the mirror. It wasn’t something she made a habit of, as she wasn’t a particularly vain person by nature, and prolonged nudity wasn’t exactly encouraged or expected of her.

It would have been difficult for Alyssa to not know she was attractive; she had always been told so and she wasn't an idiot. But she also knew that her skin was too dark to be considered widely acceptable or beautiful, and the thick, curly texture of her hair only added to her “otherness.” Men found her “exotic and exciting” as a prospect, but not marriage material. She heard one of Greg’s colleagues say that once, to the agreement of all around him. Fortunately, she didn’t care one lick about what men thought of her. She would prefer they think of her as little as possible. What they thought, however, was a direct indication of how the world at large felt, and that filled Alyssa with a self-conscious melancholy that she could never really shake.

But with Emma? Emma looked at Alyssa like she was the most beautiful and desirable person she’d ever laid eyes on since before they had even officially met. Plus she felt totally safe and comfortable every moment she was with Emma. Alyssa’s skin tingled with warmth remembering the intensity of the artist’s stare, and anticipation took a firmer hold as she realized she was seconds away from Emma seeing more of her than anyone else ever had.

She fastened the necklace into place, feeling its weight settle heavily against her sternum. She was just about to head for the door when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the black silk robe Lady Duff-Gordon made her as an engagement gift hanging beside a couple of her nightgowns. With a devious smirk and a fleeting thought about rubbing salt in the wound, Alyssa pulled the sheer piece of negligee down and slipped it on. She didn’t bother tying it, opting instead to hold it closed in the front with one hand.

With that final dramatic touch, Alyssa stepped to the door and opened it just a hair, closing her eyes and steeling herself as she listened to the scraping sound of Emma sharpening her pencils. Knowing in her heart that she trusted Emma completely, Alyssa pushed past the threshold and into the sitting room where Emma awaited her.

* * *

If Emma couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking enough to sharpen her crayon, she had no idea how she would manage to draw Alyssa. Which was frankly ridiculous. She’d drawn at least a dozen women in similar states of undress and never once had she felt as if she may keel over at any moment. 

Shaking her head, she furrowed her brow and gave a few aggressive, pointed swipes of her knife on the crayon. She was an artist first, and she could set her feelings about her subject aside long enough to get a decent portrait out of it. Alyssa deserved that after placing so much trust in her. Although some of that resolve was lost the moment she heard the bedroom door open, and out stepped Alyssa.

As their eyes met, Alyssa stopped to lean against the doorframe, biting her lip in a way that was simultaneously shy and maddeningly seductive. The first thing Emma noticed was that Alyssa’s hair was down. She had never seen Alyssa with her hair down before, and she suddenly hated every pin and comb that ever tried to tame such luscious curls. She was instantly overcome with a desire to run her fingers through them.

Emma’s gaze continued downward past the necklace only to finally realize that Alyssa wasn’t naked, and yet somehow what she was wearing was even more tantalizing. The fabric of that robe was made specifically to drive a person insane, Emma reasoned. Thin and translucent enough to let someone see the hints of soft curves beneath it, but dark enough to hide the important details.

Alyssa seemed to take notice of Emma’s gawking, waggling her eyebrows and playfully twirling the tie of the robe out to the side. Emma couldn’t help but smile back, and some of the tension eased, if only by a little. Then Alyssa was striding forward slowly, the hand that wasn’t holding her robe shut reaching out to Emma once she was close enough.

“The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll. As a paying customer,” Alyssa paused for a second to drop a dime into Emma’s hand. “I expect to get what I want.”

She took a few steps back then, looking only slightly nervous as she slowly parted the robe and let it slide over her shoulders and down her body, pooling at her feet.

Emma’s breath hitched in her throat, her body immediately tensing up and her eyes refusing to leave Alyssa’s as she blinked through a few seconds of absolute silence. Alyssa looked at her expectantly and perhaps almost self-consciously, and Emma had to shake her head to partially clear it of the fog that had descended with the reveal of just how  _ exquisite _ Alyssa truly was. Emma allowed her eyes to quickly dart down Alyssa’s body before they landed on the couch she’d already staged for the portrait.

“Uh...over on the bed-” She pointed at the couch and cleared her throat, correcting herself. “The  _ couch. _ ” Emma adjusted her own seated position as Alyssa got settled hesitantly, waiting for instruction. “Lie down.” Emma all but whispered as she began to shift into artist’s brain, her own vision of the scene taking precedence over her nerves.

Alyssa settled back, turning her body slightly towards Emma but looking unsure of herself as she struggled to find a position for her arms that wasn’t awkward. Then for a moment, she had her left arm resting above her head on the throw pillow before moving it again. “Tell me when it looks right.”

“Yeah, keep that. Put your arm where it was before,” Emma instructed, sure of herself for the first time this evening. “And put your other hand up by your face right there,” She put her own hand up to her brow for Alyssa to mirror. “Now, head down.”

Alyssa tilted her head down ever so slightly, smiling to herself as she completed Emma’s perfect pose.

“Now, eyes to me. Keep them on me.” Emma pointed to her eyes and then she was picking up her crayon and sketchbook. “And try to… stay still.”

Alyssa’s lashes fluttered as she looked away for a quick second and wetted her lips. When her eyes came back to rest on Emma, Emma had to take a long, deep breath in order to make sure she didn’t pass out. Drawing Alyssa naked was going to be a challenge no matter what, but drawing Alyssa naked while she looked at her  _ like that _ might actually be the death of her. Positioning herself more comfortably in the chair with her legs crossed, Emma rested her sketchbook securely on her lap and, with a silent prayer that she survive this, she set to work.

Once the crayon touched the paper, Emma was able to concentrate better. A light outline here, a broader stroke there… her eyes relaying everything they saw to her hands easily with little interference. So long as she focused on being professional, on the lines and shading of  _ her subject _ as opposed to the enticing curves of Alyssa’s body or how much flawless, velvety golden-brown skin was on display...

Her efforts to not get distracted must have shown on her face, because a few minutes in, Alyssa was pulling an exaggeratedly severe face and deepening her voice as she teased her. “So serious!”

Emma’s lips quirked up to the side and she huffed a soft laugh out through her nose, her eyes flitting from where they were currently at work to actually make contact with Alyssa’s. She wondered what Alyssa was thinking. If she could somehow tell what absolute chaos was currently going through Emma’s head as she struggled to just draw the damn picture when all she really wanted to do was throw her drawing supplies aside and ravish Alyssa right then and there.

But she was not going to do that. So she finished the shading around Alyssa’s hands and began working gradually down her body, drawing the ungodly diamond heart necklace, and finally outlining Alyssa’s breasts.

She’d hoped that putting this part off would make it less daunting once she got fully engrossed in the task at hand, but all it had done was allow for a good deal of anticipation to build up in the back of her mind in the meantime. So Emma could feel her cheeks get warm as she made certain to get the shading of Alyssa’s cleavage and her one exposed nipple (the other had managed to be ever-so-artfully obscured by Alyssa’s hair) exactly right. If she didn’t have to so frequently look from the page to her subject, she may have been inclined to hide behind her sketchbook, but that wasn’t an option for such a crucial drawing. For Alyssa, she was looking for perfection.

“I believe you are blushing, Miss Big Artiste,” Alyssa said suddenly, and a smile crossed Emma’s face as she drew in the midline of Alyssa’s abdomen down to her navel. Nothing got past her. “I can’t imagine  _ Monsieur Monet _ blushing.”

Emma sighed and looked up from the drawing with faux exasperation. “He does  _ landscapes _ ,” she stated plainly as Alyssa looked to be on the verge of laughter. “Just relax your face.”

Alyssa bit her lip and sighed, closing her eyes. “Sorry.”

“No laughing,” Emma reminded her as Alyssa took in a deep breath and opened her eyes again, keeping them dutifully on the artist like any good model. She’d have given anything to know exactly what Alyssa was thinking, but a hopeful part of her thought she may have already known as she set about completing the drawing, ensuring she captured every minute detail, immortalizing this moment she would surely never forget for as long as she lived.

* * *

* * *

_ My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life… up until then, at least. _

“Oh, I like where that ellipsis is going!” Billy says teasingly, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Jennifer seated beside him on the loveseat before repeating the last entry aloud for her to hear.

She puts her second whiskey down on the coffee table and leans over it to snatch the diary out of his hands before he can see it coming. His own reflexes seem to be slightly slowed, probably due to the strong and expensive booze he’d ordinarily never drink. In fact, he’d been saving the bottle for when he found the necklace.

“We can just skip the next part, I think.” She makes a show of thumbing through the pages.

“Oh, no. No, no, nooo. I had to read an entire chapter about Edwardian workout equipment and Turkish baths to get to this moment. If they’re gonna do it in Hockley’s living room, I’m gonna read about it.” He tries to reach for the book again, only for Jennifer to hold it out, away from him with one hand while the other pushes against Billy’s chest.

Billy can feel his heart race at the contact and wonders if perhaps Jennifer can feel that detail when she blushes and removes her hand from him. 

She pushes her hair behind her ear and looks away. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but that’s not even gonna happen.” 

A part of Billy is a little disappointed that Jennifer seems determined to not address the moment they just had, but he figures that’s probably for the best, no matter how much he _ wants _ to acknowledge it. Buf if she’s determined to stick to business, then he’s not about to make this weird between them. Not when three years of his life and the Heart of the Ocean is at stake. Then his brain fully catches up with her words and his disappointment changes subjects.  _ “What?!  _ Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know, William. Maybe because Emma was a  _ professional artist  _ and sleeping with Alyssa at a time like that would have been improper. She was  _ working.”  _ Jennifer’s tone seems to imply that she’s talking about more than just Emma.

So maybe that door hasn’t  _ completely  _ closed.

“Yes, and me reading your grandma’s smut book is  _ me  _ working, I’ll remind you.” He makes exaggerated grabby hands in the direction of the diary as Jen can’t quite hold back an amused smile.

“It’s not a smut book, it’s a beautiful love story that we’re lucky even exists. Do  _ you  _ know anyone who could give a perfect account of a five-day span from 84 years ago?”

“You got me there, James Wood. You know, usually I have to buy the  _ New Yorker  _ to read your reviews. But I’ll have you know that most old people tend to hate me.”

“Oh, I can only imagine why, Ponce.” Jennifer giggles to herself.

Billy shakes his head and sips his drink while trying not to wince at how strong it is. He’d gladly take a girly mixed drink over this straight stuff any day. “You know he was a land explorer, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Ponce de Leon. He was a land explorer. If you’re gonna compare me to a douchey counterpart, call me Brock Lovett or something,” he explains. The reference to his childhood hero takes him back to why he got into this line of work in the first place. Why he picked this particular treasure. Sure, Lovett was the jerk who punched the hole in Captain Smith’s cabin, but his Titanic explorations were unparalleled.

“Alright, fine, I’ll be sure to keep my history references in check the next time I insult you.” Jennifer rolls her eyes.

“That’s all I ask.” Billy looks around the room, wrapping both hands around his glass while he bounces his knees impatiently. “Now may I  _ please _ have the book back so I can read what happens next?” He finally asks when he can’t stand the silence that’s fallen over the two of them any longer.

“ I mean, if you only care about where the necklace could be, why does it matter? I could just skip ahead.”

“Because I  _ want  _ to read it, okay? What did Emma say? ‘I’m involved now’?”

“You’re quoting Emma?” Jen scoffs to herself.

“Well, from what I can gather from this book, she was quite the dashing figure. There are worse people to uh… strive to emulate?” It sounds incredibly lame to Billy the second he says it, but he’s run out of excuses. He’s engrossed in this absolutely impossible story Jen has thrust upon him.

“Smooth.” Jen rolls her eyes as she hands the diary back to him, sighing. “Just please, for the love of god, don’t be such a guy when you read it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Billy says, flipping through to find his place again.

* * *

* * *

It was the most erotic moment of Alyssa’s life up until then, but it was also the longest. The only way to describe it was torture… the most agonizing yet heavenly torture. She had thought Emma’s gaze was intense before, but Alyssa simply couldn’t find the words to describe the fervent look in Emma’s eyes as they roamed over her body.

There on that couch, a multitude of feelings washed over Alyssa, many for the first time. She never knew one could feel so vulnerable and exposed, and yet so free at the same time. Emma’s eyes tore down any additional barriers as they studied her, committing a little bit more of Alyssa’s essence to paper with each sketch of her pencil.

She had also never felt such longing… desire so strong, it was almost an ache. Emma felt it, too; she was working very hard to stay focused, but Alyssa could see the hunger in Emma’s eyes. All that did was make Alyssa  _ want _ more, and as they both continued to watch each other, Alyssa wondered when the vicious cycle would end.

Alyssa managed to only break the silence to tease Emma twice - she couldn’t help it; the tense quiet was killing her and Emma was just too charming with the crinkle of concentration set between her brows - and she survived the rest of the session by letting herself daydream. Every daydream was about Emma, of course, which probably didn’t do much to help the pounding of her heart or the echo of it that had made itself known between her legs. But it was a pleasurable enough way to pass the time until Emma’s hands could be free to hopefully map out Alyssa’s body the way her eyes had.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emma finally relaxed her posture with a huff and said, “Done!”

Even considering her languid posture on the couch, Alyssa relaxed substantially at that. She heaved a huge sigh of relief, which she hoped didn’t sound too impatient or ungrateful as she got up to fetch her robe. Alyssa could feel Emma watching her as she bent down to retrieve the garment, and that fact sent a surge of newfound sensual confidence through her. With a coquettish grin and a look that was intended to let Emma know she had been caught staring, Alyssa slowly straightened up and slipped the robe on over her shoulders, taking the time to adjust her hair before even bothering to pull it closed.

“You uh… you did really good,” Emma managed to get out after a few moments of staring. She shook her head, clearly trying to give her mind some clarity, but Alyssa was not so sure it worked when she added, “I mean, a lot of girls tend to be fidgety and you weren’t but also you’re just…  _ wow _ , and-”

_ “Emma?” _

Alyssa simply saying her name--or rather, purring it--brought the rambling to an end as she stepped closer and Emma swallowed hard. “Uh huh?”

“Please stop talking.” With that, Alyssa closed the distance between them, leaning over to do one of the many things she’d been fantasizing about while playing model, languidly kissing Emma for all too short of a duration before she forced herself to pull away so she could get a look at the finished work while Emma initialed and dated it at the bottom of the page.

What Emma had drawn simply took Alyssa’s breath away. Even knowing how talented Emma was couldn’t prepare Alyssa for seeing the new drawing. It  _ definitely _ wasn’t like any other portrait of her, nor was it one she would want just anyone seeing, but it was also the most accurate and honest depiction of herself that Alyssa had ever seen. 

Emma managed to capture every single detail and feature that was distinctly Alyssa, even the energy radiating from her eyes. They were the eyes of someone brave, passionate, and  _ free. _ The Alyssa in the drawing was equal parts elegant and sultry, but completely and undeniably beautiful.

_ This is the person I’ve always wanted to be. And this is how Emma sees me _ . Alyssa thought joyfully.

“I… I don’t think I have the words, Emma.” Alyssa shook her head in fond disbelief, trying not to cry. “It’s just… perfect. It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

She leaned down further over Emma’s shoulder to take hold of the portrait, only to be met with playful resistance as Emma refused to relinquish it without another kiss. Alyssa eagerly obliged, giggling against Emma’s lips each time she would get close to tugging it free before Emma would pull it back a bit further. It was a game Alyssa would have happily played for hours if she weren’t so anxious to get somewhere Greg wouldn’t think to look for them. Emma made a sound of displeasure as Alyssa finally pulled away.

“You’re incorrigible,” Alyssa muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” Emma grumbled in response, eyes trailing down Alyssa’s body shamelessly for a change. “You still haven’t tied your robe.”

Alyssa brought the folder up in front of her to partially obscure Emma’s view, her lips curling into a smirk. “Yes, well... you were distracting me. I actually think I should get changed and then we can go somewhere that doesn’t remind me so much of… well, people who aren’t us.”

Emma nodded and smiled agreeably, even if she looked just the slightest bit glum at the prospect of Alyssa putting on more clothes. 

Before going to get dressed, Alyssa stepped over to the table she had left the necklace case sitting on, removing it from around her neck and placing it back inside. She then grabbed a sheet of Titanic stationary and a pen and prettily scrawled the succinct but scathing message that had been repeating itself in her head since she came up with the idea.

_ Darling, now you can keep us both locked in your safe. - Alyssa _

“What are you doing?” Emma asked.

“Will you put this back in the safe for me?” Alyssa replied, deflecting as she handed Emma the necklace case. 

Emma hummed an affirmative and did as Alyssa asked. Meanwhile, Alyssa slipped her note inside the folder with the drawing and took it with her as she went to get dressed, intent on closing it up in the safe as well before they left. 

* * *

There was no better indicator of how much money Alyssa’s fiance had to throw around than the fact that he paid to have his own deck. That’s what Emma thought as she stood out in the dark, waiting for Alyssa to get changed and watching the water that was so calm, it looked like glass for as far as the eye could see. The fresh air was doing her good, clearing her mind and making her cheeks not feel like they were on fire. But it was also freezing, and she could only take a few minutes of it, even with her ‘borrowed’ coat on, before she was heading back inside, breathing into her hands and rubbing them together.

“It’s getting  _ cold _ ,” she exclaimed before her eyes took in the sight of Alyssa in a mostly free-flowing pale purple dress with its cinched waist. It was softer, more casual than anything else Emma had seen her in up to this point. It was simple, but the kind of simple and comfortable-looking that only brought out Alyssa’s natural beauty even more than her elegant ensembles. And, to Emma’s delight, she’d left her hair down.

Emma could have said any number of things to her in that moment, but she settled on a to-the-point, “You look  _ nice.” _

“Miss Alyssa?” a voice - unmistakably Lovejoy’s - called from outside the sitting room door, followed by a knock and the sound of a key in the lock.

Panic flashed across both of their faces and Alyssa wasted no time in grabbing Emma’s hand and practically dragging her through the bedroom to the stateroom on the other side, closing the door between the rooms. From there, they exited the suite out into the main B-deck corridor, trying to look casual as they strolled along towards the foyer.

They were halfway to the end of the hall when they heard the door open behind them, and they both looked back to see Lovejoy leaning out of the door. He peered back the other way before craning his head around to spot them, his eyes narrowing into a menacing glare as he made to follow.

“Come on, Emma!” Alyssa urged them forward into a run, a mischievous bit of laughter escaping as they took off towards the bank of elevators across the foyer and around the corner. They skidded to a halt just in time to see an elegant couple exiting and the operator starting to close the doors.

“Wait, wait, wait!” 

The operator looked alarmed but held the door for them as they clamored inside and Emma helped him to quickly jerk the gate closed.

“Take us down, quick!” Alyssa told the man, to which he scrambled to comply.

Just as they were starting to descend, Lovejoy made it to the lift, slamming a hand against the gate in frustration. Emma couldn’t fight a cheeky grin as the full weight of what was happening started to set in. Her grin broke into full-on laughter when Alyssa boldly shot Lovejoy the middle finger. The valet just glowered further and began heading determinedly in the direction of the stairs.

Alyssa had the operator take them all the way down to E-deck where they stumbled out, laughing giddily and nearly toppling over a cart in the process. They flew down the stairs to F-deck and rounded a corner, leaning against the wall to catch their breath.

“Pretty tough for a valet, this fella. Seems more like a cop,” Emma managed to gasp out.

“I think he was,” Alyssa said with a laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw movement and looked through the window of the door to her left. Lovejoy was stomping through the hall angrily and just at that moment, he turned and locked eyes with her..

“Oh shit,” Emma swore under her breath.

“Go!” Alyssa grabbed her arm and they were off again, running down the maze-like hallways for several moments until they came to what seemed like a dead-end. But Emma did a quick 360 around the space and spied a door set back into the wall in a little alcove.

“No, over here!” Emma pointed and tried the door, hoping luck was on their side and it wasn’t locked. Luck  _ was  _ on their side, it seemed, as the door was not only unlocked, but capable of being locked after they slipped inside. 

The sound of Lovejoy banging was immediately drowned out by a massive roaring and they both had to cover their ears. Glancing around, Emma surmised that they were at a boiler room entrance since there was nothing but a ladder leading down to another open room that was currently glowing orange and emitting an awful lot of heat.

“After you, m’lady!” Emma yelled over the din, offering Alyssa her hand to begin helping her down the ladder.

Once they managed to make it down below, Emma had to take a second to get her bearings. It was such a huge shift in atmosphere from the extravagance and chill up above. The furnaces burned so bright and hot that it was almost too much even at a distance. 

She stood gaping for a moment before a burly, coal-coated man saw them and shouted, “Hold on, what are you two doing down here? You shouldn’t be here, it could be dangerous!  _ Oy!”  _

He continued to yell after them as they bolted in the opposite direction, passing by thoroughly confused workers with every step.

“Carry on, don’t mind us! You’re doing a great job, keep up the good work!” Emma called out casually as they passed by, barely managing to dodge out of the way of moving wheelbarrows. 

Alyssa laughed giddily as she darted through with much less effort, her dress rippling behind her in the clouds of steam. She was truly a vision… like something out of a fantasy Emma never allowed herself to have out of fear of lifelong disappointments. And yet there she was, looking like an angel lost in some fiery hellscape, but she was there by choice. Because she chose Emma. And that thought filled Emma with a kind of heat that had nothing to do with their current location.

That warm elation, combined with all of the adrenaline coursing through her and the leftover excitement from the drawing session, drove Emma to pull Alyssa aside into an alley amidst some of the boilers. They were out of sight of the working crew and the area was relatively dark, lit only by the furnaces that roared around them. Emma knew they had just kissed not even half an hour before, but she was also convinced that if she didn’t kiss Alyssa right then, she might lose what little sense she had left.

Alyssa continued into the alley a little ways, looking around for what Emma suspected was the way out, but Emma stayed put, their joined hands causing Alyssa to stop in her tracks. Alyssa turned to look at Emma, eyes questioning but so full of trust as Emma gave a soft tug to her hand and brought them closer together. 

Emma hesitated only slightly, searching Alyssa’s face for any sign of uncertainty, but all she saw was an open desire that mirrored her own. As Emma leaned in, Alyssa rose eagerly to meet her, and immediately the kiss was different than any other they’d shared. There was a new kind of intensity behind it.

Alyssa’s arms wound themselves around Emma’s neck, pressing herself further into Emma as Emma slipped one arm around her waist, the other hand cradling Alyssa’s jaw as the kiss deepened. A whimper escaped Alyssa the moment their tongues slid against each other and that sound shattered Emma’s self-control almost entirely. All she could think about was how many other sounds she could coax from Alyssa, and the multitude of ways to do so.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Emma started to pull away from the kiss, only for Alyssa to whine and chase her lips. She caught Emma’s bottom lip between hers and sucked, her hands clutching desperately at Emma’s shoulders to keep her close. Emma couldn’t help the soft growl that slipped from her throat in response to Alyssa’s enthusiasm, finally letting one of her own hands move from its place on Alyssa’s waist down to her backside.

Alyssa broke their kiss with a gasp, her hips jerking forward at Emma’s touch. Emma took that opportunity to nip along Alyssa’s bottom lip and across her jawline where she began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“Oy! Do you two mind doing that somewhere else? Some of us are trying to work!”

Emma jumped back from Alyssa at the sudden interruption from a sweaty, soot-covered stoker attempting to pass them with a wheelbarrow full of coal. The two of them awkwardly moved to one side of the corridor and allowed him to pass through, the moment effectively ruined as Emma was brought back to the reality that they were supposed to be  _ running _ and they weren't actually alone or safe yet.

“He’s right; we should go,” Alyssa said just loud enough for Emma to hear once the worker was off on his merry way.

Emma nodded, a bit sheepish as she took Alyssa’s hand and they continued through the rest of the boiler rooms until they finally found a door that looked like an exit. She was hopeful it would lead them even further away from Lovejoy and anyone else trying to track them down, at the very least. She had to make sure Alyssa was safe; that was the most important thing.

* * *

Alyssa’s body was still on fire the moment they happened upon the cargo hold--despite how quickly Emma had jumped away, or the respectable distance she had kept between them since that stoker had startled them. Even in the comparatively chilly air of the cargo hold, she still burned for Emma.

After making sure the door shut securely behind them, Alyssa followed Emma further into the rather large storage area, hugging herself against the encroaching chill and hoping Emma would pull her close again now that they were alone.

“Wow! Look at what we have here!” Emma’s eyes brightened as she pointed towards a gorgeous, brand new car lashed down to a pallet in the center of the room. She took Alyssa’s hand and led her through the maze of crates and furniture until they were right at the vehicle’s side.

As Emma looked over the car appreciatively, Alyssa pushed herself up onto her toes to have a look at the interior. The enclosed cab had a large, plushly upholstered back seat that was far too inviting to pass up. She knew they would  _ definitely _ have to get close in there.

Schooling her expression into one of snooty disdain, Alyssa cleared her throat to get Emma’s attention. When she had it, she looked pointedly at the car door. 

Emma seemed to catch on quickly to what Alyssa was playing at, grinning before putting on her haughty persona from before dinner the other night and moving to open the car door. She offered Alyssa her hand and helped her up into the cab, but--much to Alyssa’s disappointment--instead of joining her, she closed the door and walked back up to the front, getting into the driver’s seat. With an amused huff, Alyssa slid the glass partition down and leaned forward so that they could still speak. 

There was a childish quality to Emma’s smile as she honked the car’s horn twice, the sound echoing throughout the cargo room. “Where to, Miss?” she asked in a faux London accent.

Alyssa didn’t even have to think about it as she smiled to herself, leaning forward to whisper in Emma’s ear, “To the stars.” And then she was taking Emma by the upper arms and pulling her back through the window, not minding in the slightest when Emma ended up landing mostly on top of her in the back seat. 

They both giggled as they righted themselves, Alyssa immediately snuggling into Emma’s side and Emma wrapping an arm securely around her to keep her close, but still not close enough for Alyssa’s liking. Emma set her hand over Alyssa’s that was clutching at her coat, brushing her thumb across Alyssa’s knuckles tenderly. Alyssa released the fabric and wound her fingers through Emma’s own instead, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. 

When Alyssa glanced up into Emma’s eyes, her breath caught in her throat at the way she was looking at her. It was the same heated gaze that had Alyssa almost squirming with anticipation the whole time she was on the couch, but there was also so much unwavering affection. 

Once again, Alyssa was overcome with just how much she wanted Emma. She couldn’t even be completely certain of the specifics of what she wanted, but she knew it was  _ all _ Emma Nolan. She wanted her so much, all reason and fear seemed to disappear, leaving only trust, desire, and yes…  _ love _ .

Emma must have read as much on her face because then she was leaning in and placing a surprisingly gentle kiss to Alyssa’s lips before pulling back to look in her eyes.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, voice a little shaky.

It took Alyssa’s mind a few seconds to process those words - she was a little inexperienced in this particular subject, after all - but she  _ certainly _ knew the answer to  _ that. _

“No,” she said with conviction, shaking her head and bringing Emma’s hand up to her lips. She placed a few tender kisses to the tips of those fingers that she knew were capable of creating magic, hearing Emma’s breath audibly catch in her throat as she did so. There was no turning back from this moment, and before she could think too hard on it, Alyssa was whispering, “Put your hands on me, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes were wide as Alyssa led her hand to her chest, first letting Emma feel how she made her heart race and then encouraging it lower to cup her breast. Alyssa instinctively arched into Emma’s touch that burned hot even through the fabric of her dress, further stoking the fire Emma had started beneath her skin.

Whatever reservations Emma had seemed to disappear at Alyssa’s insistence and she surged forward to claim her mouth in a frantic, almost messy kiss. The hand cupping Alyssa’s breast gave a soft squeeze and Alyssa’s lips parted in a surprised gasp. She didn’t expect such a simple touch to cause her body to light up with sensation. Emma took the opportunity to deepen their kiss, her tongue licking into Alyssa’s welcoming mouth as she shifted her weight, guiding Alyssa to lie back on the bench seat.

“Is this…” Emma asked between kisses, trailing off as she looked down between them.

Alyssa nodded emphatically. “It’s perfect. I’ve just....” She drew in a shaky breath as she looked up at Emma. “... I’ve never wanted something so much and I don’t really know what I’m doing…” 

Emma smiled reassuringly, thankfully seeming to find Alyssa’s utter cluelessness endearing. “Everything you’re feeling is natural, Lys… just follow your instincts. Or look to me and I’ll guide you. I’m right here with you, love.”

It was as if Emma knew exactly what to say to put Alyssa more at ease. Her words filled Alyssa with a comforting warmth that steadied her hands as she reached up to remove Emma’s spectacles and then set them carefully aside. Emma had such beautiful eyes and Alyssa wanted as few barriers between them as possible. Which reminded her of something else she desperately wanted.

“C-can I see you?” Alyssa asked, her hands tentatively moving to linger near the buttons of Emma’s shirt.

The request seemed to genuinely surprise Emma, who had to take a moment to fully process the question before nodding vigorously and shrugging out of her coat.

“I mean, it’s only fair…” Alyssa trailed off, her fingers slowly teasing a button through its hole. “After all, you’ve seen me.” Another two in quick succession. “A… a quid pro quo, if you will.”

“I don’t-” Emma cut herself off with a sharp intake of breath as Alyssa finished with the buttons and pushed her shirt open. “-know what that means.”

“It’s Latin. It means…” Alyssa suddenly felt incredibly foolish for giving a lesson in dead languages when Emma’s brassiere was on full display. “It doesn’t matter.” She giggled and shook her head, feeling her blush deepen--and here she had the nerve to mock Emma earlier.

“I’m sorry to say there are more buttons.” Emma indicated the tiny ones down the center of the garment. “Would you like some help?”

Alyssa shook her head, but unfortunately, her hands were also back to shaking as she tried to get the blasted thing off of Emma. She was unsure if it was Emma’s heartbeat she was feeling pulsing against her fingertips, or if her own was just beating that hard; she reveled in the implied intimacy that came with the ambiguity.

“Here,” Emma murmured, her hands gently pushing Alyssa’s away so that she could get the job done faster. 

Before Alyssa knew it, the offending item of clothing was being discarded to the car floor along with Emma’s shirt while her suspenders were hanging down at her hips. Alyssa’s mouth suddenly went dry as she stared at Emma's naked torso in awe. “Wow,” she breathed, finally managing to draw her eyes back up to Emma’s face, her hand caressing Emma’s flushed cheek. “You’re stunning.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered shut as she nuzzled into the touch, lips brushing kisses against Alyssa’s palm and inner wrist as Alyssa leaned in to rest their foreheads together. Alyssa swallowed thickly and wet her lips, trying in vain to keep her breathing steady.

“Emma… I want you," she whispered, surprising herself with how hoarse her voice sounded. “Please…”

When Emma’s eyes found hers again, they were burning. Nodding almost imperceptibly, her eyes never left Alyssa’s own as she reached down between them and took hold of the bottom of Alyssa’s dress. She pushed the skirt upward to just above Alyssa’s knee, stopping to caress Alyssa’s bare skin for the first time. Something seemed to shift in Emma’s gaze the moment her fingers made contact, her entire body freezing as she made an easy realization.

“...No knickers?” Emma asked, sounding as if she had the wind knocked out of her.

Alyssa shook her head slowly while she let her legs fall open, mind and senses already reeling at just the slightest touch from Emma.

“Fuck.” The word left Emma’s lips like she’d been holding it in all night and then she was claiming Alyssa's mouth in a searing kiss while her fingers resumed their eager exploration.

While part of Alyssa thoroughly enjoyed the mystery and anticipation, her dress was beginning to feel hot and constricting on her skin. She reached down to assist Emma by working the dress up over her hips, wriggling on the seat until she could easily pull the garment the rest of the way off over her head and toss it to the floor. Emma’s slack-jawed response brought on a new wave of butterflies in Alyssa's stomach. 

Quickly darkening hazel eyes traveled the length of Alyssa's body, now completely naked beneath her.

“This all feels too good to be true," Emma whispered just before she seemed to get an idea, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Alyssa’s stomach, drawing a stuttered gasp from Alyssa. “You’re like something out of a dream."

As if trying to disprove that very sentiment, Emma reached down to caress the bare skin of Alyssa's thigh once more before continuing up along her hip and waist. 

“You’re pretty dreamy, yourself,” Alyssa breathed as she met Emma’s gaze, amazed at her own ability to form a coherent sentence--let alone a witty one--while the most desirable woman she’d ever met was making herself at home between her legs. 

Emma's hands continued roaming the supple curves of Alyssa's body while she pressed a line of kisses up from her navel to her sternum. The contact was both everything and not enough as Alyssa finally let her own hands come alive and give in to the need to feel as much of Emma as possible. They glided along Emma’s incredible shoulders and down her back to finally settle at the enticing curves of her hips, her fingertips digging in slightly and pulling Emma in closer until their bodies were flush, skin to skin. It briefly occurred to her that she'd never had so much direct contact with another human being in her entire life. But those thoughts were pushed aside the minute she found her hips unconsciously bucking up into Emma, both of them gasping at not only the feeling of each other's skin but at the evidence of Alyssa's long-simmering arousal now slicked across Emma's stomach.

Alyssa bit her lip and turned her head to avoid eye contact. As much as she trusted Emma, this was all so new for her, and despite herself, she was certainly embarrassed. This was far different than the private discovery of damp undergarments the previous evening, after their romantic picnic under the stars. It was unbelievable to think how far she’d come in just 24 hours.

“Hey,” Emma whispered, her voice raspy yet gentle as she urged Alyssa to look at her again. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” She punctuated this statement with a hot kiss to Alyssa's neck. “Do you have any idea how sexy that is?”

Alyssa was at a loss for words as Emma continued to kiss and suck at her neck. There was something so thrilling about being spoken to like any woman canoodling with her lover in the backseat of a car. 

To emphasize her point, Emma's hands slipped beneath Alyssa to cup her ass, urging her to grind upwards yet again. A whimper escaped Alyssa when Emma met her halfway, the intoxicating blend of slickness and friction sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine. Emma seemed to approve as well if the hiss of breath against Alyssa's neck was any indication.

She pressed a few more kisses along the column of Alyssa's throat, her tongue flicking out to tease the skin above her pulse point as one hand moved back up to cup Alyssa’s breast. Emma’s thumb teased over the nipple, still slightly firm from the cold cargo room, then her mouth descended onto the other, sucking while mirroring the ministrations of her fingers with her tongue.

Alyssa had spent so much time marveling at what Emma’s hands were capable of, she hadn’t even let herself imagine the things Emma could do with her mouth. She could scarcely contain the high-pitched whine that escaped her or how her hands immediately buried themselves in Emma’s hair, all in the subconscious hope that Emma would take the hint and never stop touching her. She was so caught up in the feeling of Emma worshipping her breasts that she nearly didn’t notice when Emma’s free hand made its way back to her inner thighs. 

“You know, you’re quite good at-“ She choked on her own breath, her entire train of thought lost as Emma’s fingers met the apex of her legs. The first touches were feather-light, almost tentative as Emma seemed to be studying Alyssa’s reactions.

Emma lifted her head from Alyssa’s breast to look into her eyes just as her fingers brushed over a spot that made Alyssa feel almost electrified in the best possible way. Her lips parted as she only just managed to contain what would have been a rather loud and embarrassing moan.

Emma couldn’t hide the faintest smile as she tried to flip her hair out of her face and ask, “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Alyssa assured her, nodding furiously. “Please don’t stop doing… that.” Her hips bucked up into Emma’s hand and she could hear the desperation in her own voice, but she didn’t have the mind to care in the slightest. 

Emma continued on as if she was worried she might break Alyssa, fingers still moving gentle, but with more purpose as they continued to rub over that spot, almost painfully slow. The strokes of her fingers began to grow wider, with the tips ghosting down over Alyssa’s entrance before retreating back up again. 

Alyssa felt like the most precious instrument in Emma’s hands; coming alive beneath those expert fingers, played like a melody. It didn’t take long for a deeper sort of ache to make itself known inside of her, a need that caused her hips to chase the movement of Emma’s fingers each time they dared to slip lower. 

Emma needed no further prompting than the insistent cant of Alyssa’s hips and what Alyssa was sure were some rather undignified, needy noises that kept rising from her throat. Her fingers dipped down again and glided slowly and purposefully back up through Alyssa’s sex once more. Emma made a noise of pure satisfaction as her eyes took on a wicked glint, biting her lip before leaning in to purr in Alyssa’s ear, “Merde, tu es très mouillé pour moi, mon amour.”

Those words felt like Emma was pouring warm honey over every one of Alyssa’s senses. They hit her square between the legs, right where Emma’s fingers had traveled back down to her entrance, circling and gently beginning to press one inside. 

“Tout pour toi. Seulement pour toi,” Alyssa replied, breathless as she savored the feeling of surrendering herself completely. Emma had drawn her like a French girl, so it was only right she would make love to her like one.

Alyssa took a deep, shuddering breath as she felt Emma start to push in further, half bracing herself for some discomfort but instead finding that Emma’s gentle probing was both incredibly pleasant and just short of what she needed. Just as that crossed her mind, Emma withdrew her finger almost completely and slid it back in with a bit more force and Alyssa gasped in appreciative surprise as she instinctively met the next pass of Emma’s fingers with a thrust of her hips.

They built up a steady rhythm like that for a few moments, then Emma began slightly crooking her finger at the end of each thrust, and it was as if something else inside of Alyssa clicked into place. A primal groan tore itself from her throat, momentarily stilling the both of them before Emma picked up where she left off with a new look of determination on her face. She withdrew her finger completely, causing Alyssa to let out a whine at feeling suddenly empty.

“Mon dieu, tu es belle,” Emma whispered sweetly, and then she was inside Alyssa again, this time adding a second finger.

“Ne t'arrête pas, Emma,” Alyssa forced out, the new, delicious stretch making her brain hard-pressed to focus on much else. That is, until Emma’s thumb began rubbing over that spot from earlier. Then her brain was hard-pressed to focus on anything at all.

“Mmm tu te sens si bien, Alyssa,” Emma growled softly against the skin of Alyssa’s neck, grinding her hips in time with the thrusts of her fingers. Alyssa could feel the rough friction of Emma’s trousers against her thigh in direct contrast with Emma’s mouth on her neck and the sweet little noises Emma was making. It was almost too much for Alyssa’s senses to handle in her extremely aroused state. 

Emma’s hand was moving with purpose now, two fingers thrusting and curling inside Alyssa while her thumb pressed higher in a way that was making Alyssa’s hips grind up desperately and her thigh muscles begin to twitch. She had never dreamed anything could feel like this. It was simply indescribable. 

The warm tension that had been gathering deep within her was reaching a point where it seemed impossible that she could take much more, and yet she also felt so close to something that she  _ needed _ more. She craved it with every fiber of her being, just like she craved Emma. Somewhere in her pleasure-addled brain, she realized the two things were inextricably linked for her.

Just then, Emma’s fingers thrust at just the right angle with the press of her thumb and the dam inside Alyssa finally broke. Every sensation in her body seemed to converge deep within her core and against Emma’s fingers as she experienced a feeling of sheer euphoria crashing over her, her hands grasping at Emma’s back, fingernails scraping against bare skin while she failed miserably to stop herself from crying out. “Fuck, Emma!”

Emma continued the movement of her fingers until Alyssa was sure she was reduced to little more than a mewling mess. Then, finally, she pulled Alyssa in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss while she slipped her fingers out slowly. “Was that okay?” she asked once she’d retreated from the kiss, despite Alyssa’s desperate attempt to chase her lips.

Alyssa, still mostly out of breath, laughed on an exhale. “Yes, you could say that.” She threaded her hands into Emma’s hair and pulled her in for another kiss, happily accepting Emma’s tongue into her mouth when it slipped past her lips.

Emma made a sound of obvious arousal, kissing down to Alyssa’s neck, sucking on a sensitive spot for a moment and then continued down, pausing at her breasts.

“God, Emma,” Alyssa moaned, scarcely believing it when she felt herself begin to throb with desire once more. Was that even normal?

After a few moments, Emma resumed her descent down Alyssa’s body, and when she had kissed and licked down to her navel with what looked like no intention of stopping, Alyssa’s curiosity was officially piqued. Surely Emma didn’t intend to…  _ there?  _ Then she felt Emma’s lips brushing where smooth skin met soft curls and she realized that perhaps she did. 

Cheeks aflame, Alyssa lifted her head to get a better look at Emma. Their eyes locked instantly and Alyssa could sense Emma was waiting for something. 

“Is that, um… is that something you do?” Alyssa asked timidly.

Emma regarded her with an expression that was somehow both deeply amorous and filled with fond amusement. She rested her cheek against Alyssa’s thigh, her fingers tracing playful circles by her hip bone. “Yes, if you’ll let me.”

Alyssa drew in a shaky breath, mind fogging with arousal at the sight of Emma between her legs like that. “And you…  _ want  _ to do that?”

All traces of levity seemed to disappear from Emma’s face as she fixed Alyssa with a look of pure hunger, nodding her head slowly before turning it to press a kiss to Alyssa’s inner thigh. “I’ve been dying to since you were lying on that couch.”

Alyssa swallowed hard, her brain unable to come up with an adequate reply. Instead, she simply nodded for Emma to proceed.

Emma smiled up at her, reassuring. She placed a few more kisses along the spans of Alyssa’s thighs, working her way upwards. It was only a matter of a second or two between feeling Emma’s warm breath against her for the first time and the initial touch of Emma’s tongue, but it seemed like every nerve-ending in Alyssa’s body came alive with a dozen different sensations just in that brief instant.

The feeling was just right and almost too much to process. She moaned loudly, her hips bucking into Emma’s face while her hands grasped at Emma’s hair. But then in a split second of clarity, she thought that might be perceived as demanding, which was the last thing she wanted Emma to think of her, so she let go.

“I don’t think so,” Emma growled without looking up, her hand catching one of Alyssa’s and bringing it right back to her head, urging her to grab on and only then continuing her tongue’s slow and tantalizing worship of the place that Alyssa had decided was her new favorite part of her body. 

Emma alternated between soft licks and broad swipes of her tongue that would sometimes venture lower and cause Emma to echo Alyssa’s own sounds of approval against her. One such time, Emma dared to dip her tongue inside, curling as she dragged it back out. Her groan vibrated through Alyssa’s core just before her tongue flicked up to swirl around the spot that made Alyssa positively writhe beneath her.

“Oh God Emma, please... yes!” Alyssa knew she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. Emma didn’t seem to mind either as she gave Alyssa exactly what she needed. Her tongue lavished attention in a way that had Alyssa arching her back and feeling herself quickly getting closer to that edge she’d reached earlier. Emma managed to toe the line between pleasure and overstimulation with relative ease, and Alyssa couldn’t recall something ever feeling so good or right.

“You can do it, love,” Emma whispered encouragingly, glancing up to lock eyes with Alyssa as she rolled her tongue against her and then sucked.

Alyssa’s fingernails scratched against Emma’s scalp, gripping tighter at her hair as she felt herself come apart again. Her heart pounded in her ears, muting the sound of her own cries of pleasure that left her like they represented every part of herself that had been shoved down and repressed all those years.

* * *

If Alyssa posed nude for her was a work of art, then the sight of her coming down from…  _ la petite mort...  _ was a masterpiece; Emma was sure of it.

“You sure look proud of yourself.” Alyssa smiled, eyes heavy-lidded. She couldn’t have been more beautiful, all blissed-out and sleepy. She was the same girl Emma had fallen for, and yet she was all new.

“Would be kind of hard not to be,” Emma replied, her hand wiping some of the remains of Alyssa’s arousal from her chin.

“Mmmm,” Alyssa hummed, regarding her a moment before leaning up to kiss Emma. It was tender at first, and then she pulled back suddenly, her eyes meeting Emma’s as realization dawned. Then she surged forward to resume the kiss, almost greedy as her tongue darted out to lick at Emma’s lips and into her mouth. When she finally pulled away, panting, she whispered, “So that’s what I taste like. No wonder you like doing that.” 

A shiver of pure delight wracked Emma’s entire body at those words right before she was being not-so-gently pushed to sit back on her heels.

This was admittedly going in a direction that Emma hadn’t anticipated when things first started getting heated. She was under no pretenses that this was something Alyssa was experienced in, let alone fully comfortable with. So she’d expected to give her the night of her life, and she had been perfectly content with leaving things at that--though her damp trousers would disagree.

Alyssa, for her part, didn’t seem to have any qualms about reciprocating, if her curious hands and hungry eyes were any indications. Her hands went to the waistband of Emma’s trousers, fingers shaking but determined. Meanwhile, her lips charted a path along Emma’s jaw and down her neck.

Emma sighed helplessly at the feel of Alyssa’s soft lips on her skin, one hand reaching up to finally bury itself in that gorgeous dark hair. She flicked her tongue out tentatively against Emma’s neck and, seemingly emboldened by Emma’s sharp intake of breath, placed an open-mouthed kiss to that spot and then sucked. Emma moaned a lot louder than she intended to and her fingers tightened their grip in Alyssa’s curls. 

Alyssa froze for a second, her hands that had finally managed to unfasten Emma’s trousers stilling and her breath fanning against Emma’s overheated skin. 

Afraid that perhaps she might be feeling overwhelmed, Emma pulled back a little to look at Alyssa properly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to do this part if you don’t want to. It’s enough for me to make you feel good.”

“I want to!” Alyssa insisted, eyes dark and earnest. “I  _ really _ want to…” Emma gulped at the sultriness of her gaze and tone. “I just… want it to be good for you.”

“It will be. Because it’s  _ you _ , Alyssa.”

If Emma was being honest, she didn’t think it would take much to get her off at this point. She was already so unbelievably turned on from everything that was Alyssa. But she knew she said the right thing from the impossibly soft look that crossed Alyssa’s face and the equally soft kiss she leaned in to press to Emma’s lips. 

Alyssa’s hands then began drifting upward from Emma’s waist while her lips resumed their previous attentions to Emma’s neck and collarbone. They hesitated a moment, just before reaching Emma’s breasts, and then she was finally cupping them in her hands, marveling at the weight. She squeezed gently and swiped a thumb over a taut nipple, and Emma gasped softly.

Her lips had paused at the top of one of Emma’s breasts, and Emma could feel that Alyssa’s breathing was just as ragged as hers. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, Em,” Alyssa muttered. Her eyes were fixated on Emma’s chest as she continued to touch her, experimentally tugging a nipple between her fingers and then leaning in to swipe her tongue around the other before drawing it between her lips and sucking.

Emma whimpered desperately, both stunned and completely content to be so easily enraptured by each and every little thing Alyssa did to her.

When Alyssa began to kiss down her abdomen, Emma had to take a second to focus on breathing or she thought she would certainly perish because the only thing her body seemed capable of doing on its own was hyper-focusing on every little move Alyssa was making. Almost painfully slow, Alyssa began to tug down Emma’s trousers, sinking her body lower along with them until she was kneeling on the floor in front of Emma and pulling her to the edge of the seat. That put her right at eye level with the patch of wetness in the front of Emma’s undershorts, and at first, Emma thought she might not notice, but then Alyssa looked up into her eyes, pupils blown and her expression almost feral.

Alyssa maintained that eye contact as she pulled Emma’s shorts down to her knees. She only looked away when she dipped down to lick exploratorily at Emma, seemingly throwing all caution to the wind. Emma’s heart stuttered at the first touch of Alyssa’s tongue, but she felt like it truly stopped when Alyssa moaned and looked back up at her from her current position. Alyssa was vulnerable, giving herself in a way she’d never done before, and yet Emma was the one at her mercy.

Unable to look away from the breathtaking sight before her, Emma reached down to tenderly brush a stray lock of hair out of Alyssa’s face. She leaned into the touch as Emma’s fingers caressed her cheek and then slipped into her hair, blunt nails lightly scratching at her scalp and urging her on.

Alyssa’s tongue managed to find Emma’s clit with a level of ease that was surprising, and Emma’s hips unconsciously bucked into Alyssa’s face at the first feeling of direct contact.

“Mmm, right there, Lys,” Emma sighed. It all truly felt like she’d died and gone to heaven- that was the only _ logical _ scenario in which someone like Alyssa Greene would be licking her most intimate parts, anyway. These things simply didn’t happen to girls like her from Nowhere, Indiana; but then, there was no other girl on the  _ planet _ like Alyssa Greene, and Emma was figuring out very quickly that she should never assume a single thing about her.

“You taste  _ amazing,  _ Em.”

“You  _ feel  _ amaz-” Emma’s sentence was cut off by a sudden jolt to her system in the form of Alyssa’s tongue dipping experimentally inside her. Her thighs shook, forcing Emma to brace herself against the window to the front seat to avoid crumpling forward on top of Alyssa.

Alyssa snickered to herself, clearly satisfied by her ability to, quite literally, make Emma go weak at the knees.

Emma, for her part, was somewhat shocked and embarrassed at how soon she was sure to climax if Alyssa kept this up, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel  _ bad _ about it, either. How could she, after all, when she was the one being bowed down to by a goddess in the flesh?

So with that thought, she allowed herself to lose any inhibitions that remained in her body, letting go of the tension she’d been holding onto, and giving herself over to the pure, unadulterated pleasure that Alyssa’s mouth could provide--drowning in it as she choked out a wordless cry of ecstasy.

When she returned to her senses, the first thing she noticed was Alyssa, just as she’d left her, eyes wide and dark and looking to Emma for a sign of what could only be validation.

“I would have never guessed you hadn’t done that before,” Emma said, still attempting to get her breathing back under control while the thought occurred to her that she had actually made love with Alyssa Greene.

“Really?” Alyssa beamed up at her, cheeks flushed, and looking far too adorable for someone in her current position. Emma felt her heart leap in her chest at the sight. She was well and truly sunk for this girl.

“Really. You made me feel so…” She trailed off and shook her head, smiling softly as she realized words could never describe what Alyssa did to her. “You’re a natural, Lys.” Then she leaned down to give Alyssa a slow, smoldering kiss. Without breaking apart, Emma adjusted her position, shifting from sitting on her knees to sitting back on the seat. She grasped gently at Alyssa’s arms and pulled her up to straddle her lap, hands moving to Alyssa’s ass--for stability, of course.

“Em?” Alyssa asked, barely audible enough to get her attention as she moved down from Emma’s lips to her neck, nipping and sucking at her pulse point.

“Hmm?” Emma replied though she wasn’t sure she could focus much on the conversation when Alyssa’s hands began to wander to her chest.

“I want to do that again.” She soothed one of the marks she had made with her tongue as her hands palmed Emma’s breasts. “For you… like you did for me… before.” Then she pulled back slightly, presumably to gauge Emma’s reaction. To be fair, Emma felt like she was about to pass out from sheer delight at everything that was happening and was silent for longer than she intended to be. Alyssa must have mistaken that for uncertainty because she blushed furiously and bit her lip before leaning in to whisper clarification in Emma’s ear. 

“I want to be inside you.”

Emma couldn’t help the whine that escaped her at Alyssa’s words, or the way she began to ache desperately for the very thing Alyssa was asking for. She nodded fervently and adjusted her position, twisting to lie back on the seat, as Alyssa had done for her before. She couldn’t recall the last time she was nervous to be in such a scandalous way with a woman, but at that moment, she was. It was as if it were her first time all over again.

She let her legs fall open, much to Alyssa’s apparent approval if her hungry gaze were to be believed. “You may have your wicked way with me, Miss Greene,” Emma said in a teasing, Trans-Atlantic accent that would give Alyssa’s first-class friends a run for their (abundant) money.

Any remaining hesitation or nervousness in Alyssa vanished at that, giving way to a fit of uncontrolled laughter as she was forced to rest her forehead on Emma’s bent knee, giggling so hard her whole body shaking. “You sound like a Vaudevillian showman.”

“Well, you know I’m here to entertain you.”

“And may I say, you’re doing quite a bang-up job at it?” Alyssa asked rhetorically, raising her head and visibly sobering as she began to trace teasing lines with her fingers over Emma’s thighs.

Emma’s breath hitched when they began to move into the apex of her legs, quickly discovering what made her lose whatever composure she’d managed to hold on to up until then.

“It’s so wet…” Alyssa pondered aloud.

“You do that to me,” Emma said, kissing her hard as if to emphasize her point. It was then that an idea came to her, and with no warning but a smirk, she grabbed Alyssa by the hips and expertly flipped their positions.

Alyssa’s high-pitched squeal that seemed to be a mixture of surprise and delight was cut short by Emma kissing her again as she settled on top of her. Then she took Alyssa’s hand and returned it between her legs, positioning her fingers in just the right way and guiding them inside. 

It had been a while since she’d been in that particular position and she hoped she hadn’t gotten too out of practice as she quickly grew accustomed to having Alyssa inside of her. From that vantage point, she knew that she was the one technically in control of the situation, but having been in Alyssa’s position more times than not, she knew full well how powerful it felt, having a woman give herself over in such a way.

Alyssa stared with eager eyes as Emma rocked her hips a few times, a moan slipping past Emma’s lips that Alyssa immediately echoed. 

“Emma…” Alyssa rasped, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “You feel…” Her words were cut short as she adjusted her fingers experimentally, pressing them more insistently at a better angle with each pass of Emma’s hips. Emma gasped her approval, almost choking on her own breath while Alyssa looked up at her with a new kind of hungry determination in her eyes.

Before Emma could really process what that look meant, Alyssa’s free hand reached up to seize the back of her neck, tugging her down to kiss her fiercely. Their bodies were suddenly flush and the feeling added to the desperation of the kiss. They fit together so perfectly that it sent another thrill down Emma’s spine. Or that could have been Alyssa’s fingers making their way down to grab at her ass, squeezing and urging Emma to keep moving.

She began to pick up the pace with her hips, letting the feeling of Alyssa  _ everywhere _ drive her wild. Alyssa was kissing whichever parts of Emma she could reach, her hips eagerly arching up to meet Emma’s thrusts. After a few moments of this, one such movement must have caused the back of Alyssa’s hand to grind against herself and she let out a high-pitched, needy whine that shook Emma to her core.

Willing herself to stop for a second, Emma’s gaze locked with Alyssa’s and it was as if they were now of one mind. They were instantly shifting their positions, Emma slotting herself between Alyssa’s legs and Alyssa wrapping them tightly around Emma’s waist. Then Emma was reaching down to gently circle Alyssa’s clit before gliding her fingers down through slick heat and slipping inside her. 

Alyssa groaned and her hips bucked up into Emma, who responded in kind, their hands wedged between their bodies in such a way that they could move as one. And so they did, bringing each other to the brink of shared euphoria as the heat of their union enveloped them both and clouded the windows of the car. 

Emma couldn’t remember a time when she felt wanted like this… when someone needed her just as much as she needed them. This was more than just a few minutes of stolen pleasure, this was all-consuming. It was a heady feeling, just like everything else involving Alyssa, and she was more than willing to give herself over to it. She realized in that instant that her heart had been stolen the second she first laid eyes on Alyssa Greene, and there was never a force in the world that could have stopped them from coming together in this one perfect moment.

“I love you, Emma,” Alyssa said between gasps and whimpers. Dark, desperate eyes met Emma’s own, Alyssa’s hips moving up with purpose in an increasingly irregular rhythm. Her words pushed Emma just over the edge at the same time that Alyssa cried out. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Emma thought she registered Alyssa’s hand hitting the rear window of the car, but all she could focus on was the rapturous fire that filled her veins and threatened to consume her. So she let it. Every inch of Alyssa’s soft skin pressed against her own, every sweet sound she made, every flutter of Alyssa’s fingers inside her or the throb of Alyssa around hers… it all overwhelmed her senses, scorching an Alyssa-shaped brand into her soul as she quaked and tried not to succumb to pure pleasure-based oblivion.

As Alyssa’s hand smeared away some of the condensation on its way back down, Emma couldn’t help but relish the thought of leaving behind a visible representation of their lovemaking. 

“I love you too,” Emma finally replied, struggling to catch her breath as she allowed herself to partially collapse on top of Alyssa, barely managing to hold her head up to gaze into Alyssa’s eyes in wonder.

Alyssa looked back at her with equal parts awe and pure adoration, one hand coming up to brush a damp lock of hair out of Emma’s face. “You’re trembling,” she murmured.

Emma gave a breathless chuckle as she realized Alyssa was correct. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright,” she assured her before leaning in and pressing the softest of kisses to Alyssa’s lips. 

Alyssa's hands came up to hold Emma’s face, thumbs brushing across her cheeks as she pulled her down to place an equally tender kiss to her forehead. The last of Emma’s strength melted away at that and she finally let her cheek rest against Alyssa’s chest, Alyssa’s fingers carding soothingly through Emma’s hair all the while as she listened to Alyssa’s heartbeat echoing her own.

* * *

The cold air was a shock to Alyssa’s system as she and Emma emerged back on deck, more than a little disheveled after a rather hasty escape from the cargo room. Truly, it had been a miracle that they’d managed to spend as much time as they had in there before it was being stormed by White Star Line employees (most likely bribed by Lovejoy). 

She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, though how much of that was from their daring escape, or what remained from their tryst below deck, she didn’t know. But what she did know, what she was absolutely certain of, was that from that moment on, she could never go back to how things were before.

Emma’s giddy laughter rang out as she tugged Alyssa closer by their linked hands, twirling her around in the process. “Did you see those guys’ faces?” 

Alyssa giggled conspiratorially at the reminder of the look of shock on the men’s faces as they jerked open the car door to find the backseat empty, unaware that Emma and Alyssa had managed to make it to the cargo room door just seconds beforehand.

Seeing Emma before her, all rumpled and beautiful and so wildly happy, Alyssa was hard-pressed to think of any night she’d ever lived until then that could even come close to comparing to this. The future she wanted was right in front of her, and she was not going to let it go.

Reaching out, Alyssa pressed gentle fingers to Emma’s lips, bringing her laughter to a sudden halt. Emma gazed at her wonderingly and Alyssa allowed herself a moment to gaze back before she took a deep breath and said, “When the ship docks… I’m getting off with you.”

A look of sheer elation crossed Emma’s face before she shook her head, as if to temper it down. “This is crazy…”

“I know,” Alyssa said with a soft laugh, her hand moving to stroke Emma’s cheek. “It doesn’t make any sense. That’s why I trust it.” 

Emma smiled at her like she hung the stars in the sky and Alyssa thought she would do anything to be on the receiving end of that look forever. She knew without a doubt that she was making the right choice. Then Emma was pulling her in and kissing her fiercely, and the distant ringing of a bell was lost on the wind as Alyssa lost herself in Emma’s lips.

Just as she was thinking to herself that she felt as if she could truly fly, a tremor shook the floor beneath their feet, grounding her. She and Emma broke apart, looking down and then to each other in confusion and worry. The sounds of shouting and something grinding roughly against metal registered as the shaking continued.

Emma’s eyes grew wide as she looked past Alyssa’s shoulder and in a split-second she tugged her back and away towards the center of the deck. Alyssa heard something heavy clatter onto the deck behind her before turning to see a massive, jagged wall of ice passing the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well THAT happened.  
Again, we hope you're well and please come scream at us in the comments!  
We love y'all!


End file.
